The Suicide Diary (33 page)

"I can't promise anything right now. I need to go." I replied.

Walking away from my Father that day I tried to process what he had told me. It felt like my world had been turned upside-down, everything I had believed about him was wrong. He wasn’t a bad person, misguided and troubled, but he had left because he thought he was a danger to his children. As a child I could never have understood that, I would have expected him to choose his children over his addictions. It would, of course, have been the right thing to do, but life is never that easy. I wasn’t excusing what he had done but as an adult, I knew all too well how tempting it could be to want to block out the pain.

When I returned to my flat later, instead of flicking on the TV and pouring a glass of vodka and lemonade like I had every day for the past few weeks, I’ve sat and written in this notebook. I thought about my Father’s decision and how it had affected his children and his wife he had left behind. Our lives had no doubt been simpler without him, having an alcoholic present in your life can never be easy. Yet he had been sober for eight years and it had taken him all this time to reach out to us. Did he think we would reject him, and that we would never understand why he chose to leave us?

When I pulled open the drawer to find some pyjamas I saw the box of pills nestled there. In the park that day I had for a moment imagined my life in years to come with my Father in our lives once more. It had only been a fleeting image but it was the first time, in as long as I could remember that I had even thought of a future for myself.

It hit me then, was I going to repeat my Father’s mistake? If I took those pills and left my family, would Matthew feel the same anger towards me, would Joshua forget me in time, and would my Mother spend her days putting on a brave face? I was a burden on their lives and I knew they would be better off without me, and yet that was how my Father had felt and look what happened.

What was I going to do? Suppressed by my own fears, I couldn’t move forward, but I’m still too afraid to look back for answers. I couldn't go through with it - not tonight anyway.

If I
was
to live then I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me. I couldn’t live a life just only surviving, until maybe I’d get a wakeup call like he had with my Mother. It’s not enough to just go from day to day and have nothing to live for and nothing to show for it.

Over the next few weeks Joshua met with our Father several times and even Matthew had spoken to him once. Until then no one had ever understood my feelings towards my Father and I’ve been told by my few well-meaning friends, and even my Mother who all felt they had to give their opinion on the matter and that I should be grateful. I had a good Father as a child when some didn’t even have that. Since our first reunion I’ve been told I should stop being stubborn and let him back into my life. Apparently I will regret it one day when it’s too late for forgiveness.

Despite their words, no matter how grown up I get, I’m still the child and I shouldn’t have to be the one that fixes it especially when I can’t even fix myself, so how could I even hope to mend a relationship that I can’t remember most of.

I was nine years old when he left and I’d thought it was because I was a bad daughter, because I hadn’t tidied my room or I’d gotten a mark on my new dress or the grade I’d gotten on my maths test wasn’t good enough. Learning about my Father’s reasons for walking out on us only made things simpler and more complicated all at once.

Joshua now had a Father in his life and yet he had still come over the night before last to talk about him and had fallen asleep on the couch again.

Over the last few weeks I’d learned that I was important to him and my life had some meaning to my family, and yet it had no meaning to me. I had no purpose - some people live for their career or the next adrenalin rush or even love. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is to stop myself lying there and thinking too much, and the only thing that makes my heart beat faster is running, which I had taken to doing lately when I can’t sleep at night. I didn’t know if I was making excuses because I was terrified of dying or if life was suddenly giving me reasons to live.

And so, yet again I’ve found myself unsuccessful in following through with something – in this case my suicide – and now I have another incomplete record to show for it. I have nothing more to write about.

Moving back home should have been good for me, but of course being constantly surrounded by people that know me and want to be involved in my life puts me on edge. I’d learned finally that other people can’t fix me; there’s nothing my friends or family could do to pull me out of this. And yet I had to for them. They deserved better than a sister, daughter and friend who couldn’t look after herself and lived in a varying cycle of ups and downs.

I realised then that when I was with Conor, I’d felt helpless in trying to mend him when I know now people have to fix themselves. It wasn’t that I was weak or incapable of helping him; I was just a sixteen year old girl out of her depth. I either needed to end this or somehow learn to forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made and the things that have happened in my life. It was going to be a long process - writing it all down I guess has helped. So I’ve run out of story to tell, it’s unfinished – so at least I’m consistent!

I won’t write again for a while, I need to live in the present until I decide whether I am strong enough to keeping living this life. I can’t bring myself to throw this little notebook away, it feels like it keeps everything on paper rather than my head and somehow I sleep better having it but for now my story is done.

Like hell is it finished – where was he? Alex mentally calculated she would still have been around twenty-five by this point so just around the time they had met. There were more pages but part of him was scared to turn the page. He hadn’t come this far to back out now, so he took a breath and turned to the next page.

Only to read…

14. Alex - The Would-Be One

The Would-Be One – what the hell did that mean? This was about him and he realised it was also the final ‘chapter’ in her diary. He wasn’t entirely sure how that made him feel. He was still trying to process everything and yet again, that little part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to read this. Had she thought he could have been ‘The One’ and then decided against it, or had he done something to change her mind about him? Alex knew the only way he was going to get an answer was to finish reading her diary.

I love bookstores. I could spend hours just wandering around looking at all the new books, reading the back or inside covers, flicking through the interesting ones, deciding which to buy. I walked around the large store until I found the shelf which held all the ones by my favourite author. There was someone already sat on the floor in front of the shelves. I slowed to a halt just to his side unsure what to do. I tried to lean over his head scanning the spines of the books to find a title I hadn’t read yet. I couldn't help but give sidelong glance over the shoulder of the guy sat to my side. I couldn't see which one he was reading; he must have been engrossed because he barely registered my presence.

He was in coffee coloured chinos and a white linen shirt with his feet tucked under himself and into dark brown leather shoes and no socks. If it wasn’t for the coat and scarf folded next to him, he would have looked quite at home in a desert.

Well if it was the kind of desert you get on a film set starring the beautiful but masculine lead. He certainly had no place in my world and yet he looked perfectly comfortable sat on the floor cross legged in front of me. It wasn't until I stepped closer to pull a random book from the shelf that he even moved his head out of the book.

And as if I hadn’t already thought him perfect, he choose that moment to look up at me with eyes of grey silk. I watch his full lips move – had he said something? I blinked a few times to shake myself out of this dream. But no, he was still sat there when I focused again. And now he was staring at me with a crease across his perfect brow. His eyelashes caressed his face and the silky curls on his head helped to soften his features.

And before you start thinking it’s love at first sight....seriously, have you read anything I’ve written? It’s ridiculous and I’ve never believed you could work out a person completely in that first look. And yet, the first time I met Alex I felt something I can’t explain. He caught me off guard in one of the very few places I’ve ever felt content.

His eyes shifted from me to the book in my hand and then back to me in an instant. "Are you alright?" he said in a gentle but deep voice. I was staring at him. Say something you idiot! "Yes." I said, and realised I hadn't taken a breath since he looked up.

"Sorry, did you want by?" and gestured to the books in front of him.

"No, I mean yes, I did, thank you" I replied.

He stood up awkwardly, his bag hanging from his shoulder with three books under his arm and still trying to keep the place in the book he had been reading.

I turned to the shelf in front of me to keep him from seeing the blush creeping up my neck. I scanned the titles and found what I was looking for. I read the back cover although I already knew the plotline.

And then he broke the silence. "Have you read many of his books?" It was all I could manage to reply "Most of them." And then he smiled at me and my heart began to beat a little faster.

The store was as quiet as a library, so I was sure he must have heard the fast drumming inside my chest.

"I've never met anyone that’s read his books, I only discovered the author when I saw an article about him in Brazil last year...I was travelling through there" he added as if by way of explanation. I nodded and tried to make the words in my head come out of my mouth. "His books mean a lot to me" I smiled weakly, thinking I must sound like a crazy person but he surprised me when he replied "Yeah, I know what you mean." and then his eyes drifted away from mine and he seemed to be thinking about something else. I shouldn't be staring at him so blatantly, he probably did think I was crazy and was just being polite.

I pulled my new book to my chest as if to put some kind of barrier between us in the hope of breaking this spell. I turned quickly to walk away when he spoke again.

“Anyway I should probably pay for this before I get thrown out of here.” he said.

I smiled a little, remembering that this wasn’t like the bookshop I used to work in where they encouraged you to take your time. He walked alongside me in the direction of the till and I didn’t know whether to hurry forward or stay at his pace.

"I was going to get a coffee; I don't suppose you’d like to join me? It would be nice to talk to someone else who's actually read some of these books, maybe you could suggest which one I should read next!?" he seemed to add, almost hopefully. I didn't respond at first and so he added "Sorry, you're probably busy." he said.

"I’m not, eh busy that is!" I responded in a way that sounded like I wasn’t too sure of my own day. The truth was I had nothing to do all day, or in the days after. He grinned again and gestured towards the stairs. I’d never felt so inconveniently attracted to someone in the way I did to him.

Alex remembered this day so clearly. Like her he’d never believed in love at first sight but he felt this overwhelming urge to know her.

He was so immersed in that book he didn’t even notice her at first. But then suddenly he became aware of someone behind him. Impatiently he half turned, meaning only to casually look up and convey his frustration at being disturbed, when he found himself staring into the most beautiful but saddest eyes he’d ever seen. If she hadn’t looked so strangely terrified, he might have stood up and hugged her right there in the middle of the store. She looked so vulnerable it was a struggle to focus on his book again. 

I walked by his side to join the queue near the front of the store. Once we had both paid for our purchases, we wandered outside and I blinked in the sunlight. Walking at his side I couldn't help but notice the girls we walked past staring at him. One or two of them flicked their eyes over me and I’m pretty sure dismissed me as a sister or just a friend. But when I turned my head just enough to see him without being obvious, I saw he was already looking at me out the corner of his eye. He met my glance and laughed lightly without breaking eye contact. If we kept like this we'd end up bumping into someone.

He stopped suddenly and put his hand on my elbow to guide me, but I almost jumped a foot when I felt his touch even through my coat.

“Sorry, it’s just in here.” He said. His brow furrowed a little and then he nodded his head towards a doorway to his left. I followed him through a tall, wooden doorway and stepped down into a warm, slightly dark, cavern-like coffee house that I had never been in before. With a low ceiling, warm colours everywhere and the smell of fresh baking, it reminded me of a place in Italy and I liked it immediately.

"My Father used to bring me here as a child and he would read to me while we ate and drank from all over the world." he said and I must have looked confused because he pointed to the menu on the wall which offered food and drinks from a variety of cultures worldwide.

It was then I realised I was here with a complete stranger, I didn't even know his name. As if reading my mind, he held out his hand for mine and offered "It's Alex by the way". It was a few seconds before I realised he had his hand held out for mine. "Nina" as I gingerly placed my hand in his. I didn't fail to notice that he didn't let go of my hand, but instead led me to a table in the corner by the huge fireplace and only released me to sit on one of the large, comfortable seats.