Our last goodbye

 “I like to think that everything I haven’t experienced will happen anyway, perhaps in a better way. I like to think that I’m going to a world where dreams come true for real, where I truly want to live. That’s why you don’t need to worry. This place will be much better than the reality I’m leaving behind so early. I thank everyone who genuinely loved me. This is our goodbye. 

And that’s how a young life drew her last breath, another victim of suicide. The girl was found this Sunday morning on her bed, along with this farewell note on the pillow. The autopsy has not yet revealed the cause of death. Her family…”

 I stopped listening to the news. At the moment, I find myself in what used to be my living room. However, I actually don’t know how this works… I don’t even feel my body anymore, I don’t really feel anything at all. But I kind of like it… It’s a very weird, but peaceful sensation. At last, I sense freedom from the oppressive chains that I previously perceived encircling my body. Oh, that’s absolutely incredible! 

Even now, I remember the moment when my heart stopped: honestly, it was very simple, like turning off a switch (but I doubt they will find one in the examination of my body).

I observe my parents seated in front of the television. They stare blankly at the screen, inert. Every now and then, their dark circles are moistened with a few tears, but they don't seem to mind. I wish they could still see me, I wish I could reassure them that now my pain is over, that I am finally breathing. Yet, I don’t belong to their world anymore. It’s too late for that.  

 My funeral was yesterday. This may seem strange to some, but I was very curious to attend it (sorry, I must say that I was dying to have this experience). I was surprised by the large number of people who came to bid me a farewell. And I didn't even know many of them. Almost everyone was following my coffin up to the cemetery, sobbing or lowering their gazes. Almost everyone seemed to have written on their faces, “Why?”. That deafening silence would have pierced my eardrums, had I still been a flesh-and-blood body. The hypocrisy on some faces nauseated me. Those who didn't want to come couldn’t be bothered, I certainly didn't invite anyone. 

All my friends looked upset. Elisa (the one who taught me the true meaning of “friendship”), on the other hand, seemed to feel guilty, as if she had killed me herself. She has always known how I felt and dreaded the arrival of this day. I held her hand the whole time, trying to give her courage. Too bad she couldn't feel my touch.

My parents’ faces were unbearable to watch. Their tearful eyes seemed dull, they had a sort of dark aura surrounding them the whole time. Somehow, it was very painful to observe them during the process, while heading the procession, hearing them talk to me, or pray for my soul. At the function, they weren’t even able to finish the speech they prepared for me. I would have wanted to tell them not to worry, that I didn’t need to hear any words to understand how much they were suffering, how much they loved me, and how much they are going to miss me. I’m sorry I messed up their lives.  

Then, they finally placed a white rose on my coffin, and people started leaving the cemetery, one by one. As I thought everything was coming to an end, another depressing scene appeared in my sight. I was ready to leave, but apparently, someone else wasn’t. Elisa and my parents stared at my grave for what felt like an eternity. I tried to make them move, but, obviously, it was pointless. Fortunately, some other friends came to gently take them away. At this point, all I could think was: “Oh God, when will I join you?” But then I realised that I don’t even know if I will.

All in all, my funeral was quite satisfactory. Yes, I admit that I kind of felt shivers down my spine when I saw my pale face so serene in the white wooden coffin. I mean, I couldn’t feel my body anymore, but I still seemed to have some reflexes, as if there were ingrained memories. After all, this religious rituals are for those who are still alive, not for who is no longer there.

 For some human beings, my gesture is considered such a courageous act, for others the most cowardly one. But I wasn't afraid of life, I was just so tired of not living. Do you consider this a paradox? Think about it: what was the point of continuing to exist in a grey and suffocating world, surrounded by people who could, instead, see colours and talk about how beautiful they were? They told me that sooner or later I would see them too, but I was tired of waiting. Inside, I felt as if my eyes didn't work, as if I had a manufacturing defect and needed to be thrown away. A very fragile crystal vase, full of stormy water, with cracks that were breaking more and more. 

I wish I could better explain my feelings to those I now see with teary eyes. They are probably recalling the time when I was still alive. But deep down, each of them carries a memory of a different version of me, since they must have had their own perspective, and now, they will have a different memory as well. So I ask myself, how many versions of me have really existed? Which one was the real one? Did one truly exist? And then, who knows which one of them will be remembered for a long time, which one will just fade into nostalgia, or eventually be forgotten? I am talking about one of those “empty memories”, those things that only come back to mind from time to time throughout the course of life, the kind of events that end up in a dark corner of the mind, gathering dust as time goes by. But to me, none of this matters at all. On the contrary, I hope that time will naturally heal those hearts. 

Nevertheless, since I can no longer speak to anyone, I have no choice but to address my last words to myself, the one and only me who has always accompanied me. So, I would like to apologise to that part of me that truly believed in life, to whom I always made everything so difficult. I admit that she had potential that I did not cultivate. I’ve always made her shut herself away, distancing her from everyone, cooling her heart. As a result, I’ve kept her from having the experiences she would have enjoyed, even the simplest everyday moments, like having fun with friends or whatever. I am sorry if we did not visit the places, meet the people, and learn the things that we would have loved to. I am sorry if I did not become the wonderful person she would have wanted, in love with life and with herself, able to not be blocked by fears. I am sorry if I continuously sabotaged her, if I could not take care of her, poisoning our bodies and minds. I'm sorry if our greatest fear of feeling so damn lonely and unhappy was realised, that the affection from those who provided it wasn’t enough. I regret that I didn't try, and try, and try hard enough to fulfil the beautiful dreams she had. It pains me that I am not strong enough to make her smile again. I regret that I became her worst enemy. But again, I had no more options. 

 Now that I am back in my old living room, without a clue about how much time I still have to follow you around, I find myself staring at your tender gaze once again. I suddenly feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. Hence, before I leave for good, I would like to express a few thankful words to everyone who has given me a good time, to whom have allowed me into their lives in every way, especially those who helped me overcome the most difficult obstacles. They have saved me many times, even unconsciously, and it is because of them that my heart would break (if I still had it), it’s for them that I feel a little ashamed of where it went in the end. So, if you can, please forgive me, I don't want resentment or anger to consume you. Again, if I could, I would like to hug you right now.

 I’m starting to see your figures fading away and becoming more and more distant. I think it’s finally time to go now. I want to remind you, one last time, that there is no need to be sad about my absence, because I am certainly better now, freed from all my sorrows, even if I do not know where. This is truly our last goodbye.