HOME | DD

Description
i don't think amount of words to express emotion or thought can describe this constant agony. three years, three months, nineteen days and approximately six hours. even before then, i suffered. but nothing like this.
every waking moment he is in my mind. and those that know who i am speaking of at this moment may think it is wrong.
wrong to be thinking of him when i have another life now.
and in some ways it is. i agree. but do those of you that think that know exactly how i feel? your answers should be no. because at some points, not even i know how i feel about this. about him.
he is a distant memory. he is the symbol of both good and evil to me. i was only fourteen, i didn't know better. so i thought maybe it was normal. i thought all the cutting and the burning and the suicide attempts were average for someone. but not him.
he took it to the absolute extremes. huge gashes inches wide decorated his body with purple scars. burns remained unhealed, as he would do this to himself every day. at least once a week or two, there was a serious suicide attempt.
this person was the most important person in my life. never before had i ever put someone before myself, but with him i wanted to. i needed to. because for months i lived in fear of losing the person i loved the most. my grades went down along with my weight. i would cut myself in order to punish him for hurting himself. i also dealt with his multiple personality, through the abuse that he put me through for trying to help.
but i never gave up on him.
this human being taught me that every living moment is precious. every breath, every heart beat. every second is a gift. and he was right.
mental institutions never seemed to help him. on the outside, he went along with it. he always said he was better. but internally, he was destroying himself from the inside-out.
for a while i believed that he was better, like every body else did. that was before i really knew him, really got inside of his head.
never before had i met a person so twisted to the point where every moment was a struggle. i looked after him, even though he was four years older than me.
together, we were strong. but every time we weren't physically together, it returned to a constant struggle to stay alive once again.
witnessing this first hand ruined me. i was a mess, always. but i had to be strong for him no matter what.
and then one night, when i thought that maybe things were a little bit better, i lost him.

june fifth. 2008. richard kyle young hung himself, and he died as i screamed into the phone for him to hold on. to keep breathing. that i loved him. and i would never let go.

three years, three months, nineteen days and approximately seven hours now. i lost my everything. i cannot fathom how or why he could do this to me. to himself. to his family. to his friends. and it seems selfish of me to think, especially me. maybe i have become selfish for him after all this time craving him. at least a little something. i would do anything to hear his voice again. anything. my mind has buried any memories of him so deep that when they come up i choke. it's like everything is blurred. and i'll forget things. like that he wanted to be a marine. when i read that today in a journal i wrote back when he was still alive, i wanted to hit myself. how could i forget that ricky wanted to be a marine? it made me have a flash back of the day he returned from the mental hospital for the first time.
i was sitting on the cement bench at school, chatting with a few friends about rick, and how much i missed him and hoped he was okay. and all of a sudden he was there, arms wide open, huge smile on his face. he wore his favorite black jack skellington shirt and his blue jeans. his hair was still buzzed but obviously blond, and his blue eyes were so blue and bright. we ran to each other at the moment of eye contact and all i could do was cry and apologize and tell him how much i loved him and that he should never try to kill himself ever again. and all i remember him saying is, "its okay baby, you don't have to worry anymore. i'm all better. we're all better."
i cried reading that earlier today. and every time i cry aaron is there to witness it, and my guilt for that is overwhelming. i know he hates hearing about "the ex boyfriend that killed himself", but it's so much more than that. i have no one to talk to about it. no one to really talk to. i've tried therapists. i've tried friends. and i never feel any better. i was so drugged up on medications for depression and anxiety that i wasn't even myself anymore. for days and nights i cried my absolute heart out. so much that i would become sick and dehydrated. every night for years i cried myself to sleep. and every night i would have nightmares about him. i stopped eating. literally i would refuse food for days. i missed so many days of high school because i would wake up having panic attacks and throwing up from them, all because of him. one day i cut so deep and hard that i damaged the tendons for my left pinky. it has never been the same. and i admit for a while i tried killing myself. and honestly the few times i did something would happen. once the power went out right as i was getting close to dying, and it scared me so much that i stopped. another time the fire alarms went off, and i was home alone and i checked everything and nothing was burning. that really scared me, so i stopped for good. i would have these really vivid dreams about him, to the point where i could feel him touching me.
i choked up just now, thinking about that feeling. that wonderful feeling that i will never ever have again. i will never be able to hear his voice. never be able to see his gorgeous blue eyes. i can't even remember what he tastes like.
and here i am, sitting in my boyfriends bathroom typing away because i can't sleep, because every time i close my fucking eyes i think of that day. and i can't handle it. i really really can't.
it's funny to think how even though he was the one person who ruined my entire life, i still wear his necklace every day. i love him. so much. and i still believe every word he told me when he gave me this necklace.
it was a sunny spring day, and i was crying. he told me to close my eyes so i did. then he put something around my neck and told me to open them. when i did, i saw it was his favorite necklace. it was circular and had the nordic runes on both sides. then he said, "whenever you wear this necklace, not only will i be with you mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, but i will be with you physically, even if i'm not standing right next to you."

Description
i don't think amount of words to express emotion or thought can describe this constant agony. three years, three months, nineteen days and approximately six hours. even before then, i suffered. but nothing like this.
every waking moment he is in my mind. and those that know who i am speaking of at this moment may think it is wrong.
wrong to be thinking of him when i have another life now.
and in some ways it is. i agree. but do those of you that think that know exactly how i feel? your answers should be no. because at some points, not even i know how i feel about this. about him.
he is a distant memory. he is the symbol of both good and evil to me. i was only fourteen, i didn't know better. so i thought maybe it was normal. i thought all the cutting and the burning and the suicide attempts were average for someone. but not him.
he took it to the absolute extremes. huge gashes inches wide decorated his body with purple scars. burns remained unhealed, as he would do this to himself every day. at least once a week or two, there was a serious suicide attempt.
this person was the most important person in my life. never before had i ever put someone before myself, but with him i wanted to. i needed to. because for months i lived in fear of losing the person i loved the most. my grades went down along with my weight. i would cut myself in order to punish him for hurting himself. i also dealt with his multiple personality, through the abuse that he put me through for trying to help.
but i never gave up on him.
this human being taught me that every living moment is precious. every breath, every heart beat. every second is a gift. and he was right.
mental institutions never seemed to help him. on the outside, he went along with it. he always said he was better. but internally, he was destroying himself from the inside-out.
for a while i believed that he was better, like every body else did. that was before i really knew him, really got inside of his head.
never before had i met a person so twisted to the point where every moment was a struggle. i looked after him, even though he was four years older than me.
together, we were strong. but every time we weren't physically together, it returned to a constant struggle to stay alive once again.
witnessing this first hand ruined me. i was a mess, always. but i had to be strong for him no matter what.
and then one night, when i thought that maybe things were a little bit better, i lost him.

june fifth. 2008. richard kyle young hung himself, and he died as i screamed into the phone for him to hold on. to keep breathing. that i loved him. and i would never let go.

three years, three months, nineteen days and approximately seven hours now. i lost my everything. i cannot fathom how or why he could do this to me. to himself. to his family. to his friends. and it seems selfish of me to think, especially me. maybe i have become selfish for him after all this time craving him. at least a little something. i would do anything to hear his voice again. anything. my mind has buried any memories of him so deep that when they come up i choke. it's like everything is blurred. and i'll forget things. like that he wanted to be a marine. when i read that today in a journal i wrote back when he was still alive, i wanted to hit myself. how could i forget that ricky wanted to be a marine? it made me have a flash back of the day he returned from the mental hospital for the first time.
i was sitting on the cement bench at school, chatting with a few friends about rick, and how much i missed him and hoped he was okay. and all of a sudden he was there, arms wide open, huge smile on his face. he wore his favorite black jack skellington shirt and his blue jeans. his hair was still buzzed but obviously blond, and his blue eyes were so blue and bright. we ran to each other at the moment of eye contact and all i could do was cry and apologize and tell him how much i loved him and that he should never try to kill himself ever again. and all i remember him saying is, "its okay baby, you don't have to worry anymore. i'm all better. we're all better."
i cried reading that earlier today. and every time i cry aaron is there to witness it, and my guilt for that is overwhelming. i know he hates hearing about "the ex boyfriend that killed himself", but it's so much more than that. i have no one to talk to about it. no one to really talk to. i've tried therapists. i've tried friends. and i never feel any better. i was so drugged up on medications for depression and anxiety that i wasn't even myself anymore. for days and nights i cried my absolute heart out. so much that i would become sick and dehydrated. every night for years i cried myself to sleep. and every night i would have nightmares about him. i stopped eating. literally i would refuse food for days. i missed so many days of high school because i would wake up having panic attacks and throwing up from them, all because of him. one day i cut so deep and hard that i damaged the tendons for my left pinky. it has never been the same. and i admit for a while i tried killing myself. and honestly the few times i did something would happen. once the power went out right as i was getting close to dying, and it scared me so much that i stopped. another time the fire alarms went off, and i was home alone and i checked everything and nothing was burning. that really scared me, so i stopped for good. i would have these really vivid dreams about him, to the point where i could feel him touching me.
i choked up just now, thinking about that feeling. that wonderful feeling that i will never ever have again. i will never be able to hear his voice. never be able to see his gorgeous blue eyes. i can't even remember what he tastes like.
and here i am, sitting in my boyfriends bathroom typing away because i can't sleep, because every time i close my fucking eyes i think of that day. and i can't handle it. i really really can't.
it's funny to think how even though he was the one person who ruined my entire life, i still wear his necklace every day. i love him. so much. and i still believe every word he told me when he gave me this necklace.
it was a sunny spring day, and i was crying. he told me to close my eyes so i did. then he put something around my neck and told me to open them. when i did, i saw it was his favorite necklace. it was circular and had the nordic runes on both sides. then he said, "whenever you wear this necklace, not only will i be with you mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, but i will be with you physically, even if i'm not standing right next to you."