The Edge of the Outdoor Theater

I failed my major.

I came outside crying.

It was worse than a bad audition.

It was my entire plan being crushed in front of me.

"You've improved, but you're just not ready yet."

"I'm sorry, but you're no longer in the program."

You hugged me the second you saw tears.

"Oh, Charr, I'm sure you did great."

I looked at you brokenly.

"I didn't make it."

And the dams broke.

Your hug tightened. 

"What?"

I just shook my head and sobbed harder.

There was no need to repeat.

"I wasn't good enough."

You pulled away. 

It was your turn to perform.

You looked at me even though Patrick was already at the door waiting.

"Well, you're doing Commerical Music again next semester, right?"

I nodded weakly, not sure anymore.

"Well now I'm definitely gonna do it again. And we'll perform Twenty One Pilots songs and maybe even some MCR."

"Thank you."

I smiled before wishing you luck. 

You didn't need it. 

You're good at everything.

Our voices are so similar.

Yet yours is so much better.

I walked upstairs and outside.

I stopped and looked over at the Outdoor Theater.

I'm not good at math.

But I know the fall would kill me.

I stared at the edge for a long time.

I was going to jump.

The thing about being suicidal is you never realize you are until you feel like you need an escape plan.

I went to call my mom.

The service was bad so I walked to the front of the school.

I saw the teachers leave as her phone hit voicemail.

You waited outside and saw me. 

"Charr, are you waiting for a ride?"

You started walking over and I began to panic.

"No, I'm just waiting for my bus."

"Oh, when does it come?"

"In three hours."

I wish I was lying but the bus schedule really does suck.

"I can't leave you alone here for three hours."

Even though my tears had dried, you looked straight through my facade.

"It's totally fine, Hannah."

I bit my lip.

I knew you had work.

You didn't have time to waste on me.

"How about this? You come over to my house and spend the night with me. We'll make brownies, and listen to MCR, and cry."

I stared at you in shock.

We had barely gotten lunch together for the first time the week before.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna bother you."

"Of course I'm sure, silly."

"I have to call my mom."

I know she wouldn't answer.

I called again anyways.

I was going to say no, but I knew you were trying to make me happy.

I said yes. 

You grinned. 

"That's great! We're gonna have such a good time! I have work so I'll have to leave you at my place for awhile, but I'll bring back lava cake."

I went along with it.

"Sorry, the car's a mess."

It wasn't.

We drove to a gas station. 

You told me to choose any tea.

We ended up picking the same type.

It was really funny.

A man looked at me for awhile.

I was still dressed like a slut from my performance.

I got in the car and we talked some more. 

We were really too similar for me not to be a little freaked out.

How could someone I barely knew end up practically being another version of myself.

In the car, you talked about how you wanted to make everyone feel better because no one deserved to feel as sad as you had.

We really were two peas in a pod.

And an hour earlier one of those peas was going to stop existing.

I nearly cried in your car. 

My sister called. 

I told her I was three hours away.

"Just don't be like me."

I could never be like you.

People care about you.

You brought me to your house and showed me the Netflix before you left for work.

Our tastes in media is the same.

It scared me a bit.

I texted Crystal when she asked where I was.

I replied that I was at your house.

And that I think you were worried about me.

I met your brother and your sisters and later your mom and dad.

They were all so nice. 

I'm kinda envious of you for that.

You later came home.

"Sorry I couldn't get lava cake."

I couldn't care less about the cake.

You succeeded in keeping me alive for another day because it'd be rude to kill myself in your house.

I couldn't say that out loud, though.

"It's fine. You've already done enough. Thank you."

You boyfriend came over and we went to Dollar General.

I pointed out how cheap pizza was and you bought it for me.

You really didn't have to.

We went to your house and baked and played a card game and watched YouTube.

It was glorious.

We went to bed at four in the morning.

We woke up around noon.

Your family made us waffles and we watched bad Vines.

You and Cosmo drove me back to the city.

We listened to good music the whole way.

And when you dropped me off, I found Crystal.

I didn't have the heart to tell her how broken I had been.

I didn't have the soul to thank you for fixing me.

I still don't.

Instead I write this.

And I think about how close I came to killing myself over a bump in the road.

Thank you.

I know you know I was hurting.

I don't know if you knew how much.

But I'm glad you took a chance on me.

I hope someday I can return the favor.

And call you my friend.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741