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Goodbye
Not cool, mate. NOT cool, at all.
Now I know it was your day - you made it that way -
But I still feel a little pissed off, I must say.
There was nothing we could do; it was inevitable;
We mustn’t blame ourselves.
Really though? REALLY?
For hours we talked, mate, and it seemed like you listened.
I sure as hell listened to you and it really helped.
So, yeah, thanks.
Seriously though, you totally should not have done that.
You know, killed yourself.
I mean, think about what you put ME through!
Your father stood there, beginning to weep
As years of determined fighting ended,
His only son gone forever.
He’s telling me through the tears:
“If it’s not him it’s some other poor bugger,”
What an incredible, selfless man.
I hugged him mate, is that ok?
Tried to give him strength but I’d never felt so weak.
Soon I’m trapped in the inner circle your lounge became.
No more the scene of late night films with your dad’s beer
And those legendary bacon and egg sandwiches.
Now it’s a chaotic chasm of screams and sobs
Your brother-in-law and I, bewildered onlookers
As four people’s love spills violently from broken hearts.
To this day I hear his scream, guttural, animal,
Waking us all from bitter shock,
Blaming himself, of course -
We tried to stop him mate, we did.
Never will I forget your mother and sister,
Their wails echoing through the village, asking why.
After seeing that pain, that loss, that love torn apart,
I know, like I never knew for sure before:
I’ll never do that to those who love me, it’s clear now.
So maybe you saved my life that day, and thanks again,
But there was no saving yours.
Sure, we had common ground and it was good to share,
But what you had was something else, something evil.
It’s fucking unfair is what it is.
I hold your poor lover as she rocks,
Whispering “It’s not him,” over and over.
I leave her, rocking, and walk away,
Passing stone faced policeman as he enters,
And I hear from the other side of the door that
My friend is dead.
It was because I felt out of place, an intruder, I swear,
But I still feel like such a coward for leaving her there.
I walked away from his family too,
And minutes later my cold hand shook as I dialled.
My blue lips trembled as I spoke;
As I told two young men that their best friend was gone.
The hardest thing I’ve ever done…
Seriously, mate, NOT cool.
Were you watching? Were you sorry?
Had you thought that through?
All the evidence that you’d picked the wrong thing to do?
Did you see us all later, massed at The Vine?
They rocked up from all over,
Close friends, passing acquaintances;
Just bloody EVERYONE, ok?
Is that what you’d needed to know, how loved you were?
Did we not mention that, mate?
You know the desert island game on a ripped up beer mat?
When we played together, we couldn’t choose each other.
Mate, you know, right, that when you weren’t there,
I always chose you.
You knew that, right? Right?
Oh, the games, we had such a laugh.
Tradded, playing shithead and 'borrowing' fags.
Turns out you were a ‘cheerful depressive’.
No kidding…
I knew, but I could never really know, and I’m so sorry.
Sorry that I didn’t have the answers,
Because you sure as hell had plenty of questions.
We lay in the car park, looking up at the stars.
Oh, who am I kidding…
We were both too pissed to remember,
Whether there were stars or not,
But I bet we had one, last, awesome chat.
Don’t ever tell me it was anything else, please…
We walk home on auto pilot, do our usual thing.
Next day I try to get you out, let’s keep it going.
Did I hurt you with our drinking,
Was I wrong?
Well that time it would’ve done no harm:
“I can’t, I’ve got stuff to do,” you said,
And stayed in bed,
And later that night, you were dead.
‘Stuff to do’ - no kidding…
The next time I saw you -
Really saw you, not those bastard nightmares -
You lay on a hill in a beautiful place.
I gave you a Trad and remembered your face.
Your girl took me there and we talked about you,
Remembered so many good times, and some bad -
Mentioned what seemed like hundreds that showed
At that kickass funeral you had.
Mate, they just climbed THREE mountains for you!
Do you get it yet? Loved. SO loved.
Well anyway, I should’ve taken her advice
To take a moment alone on that hill, and say this stuff.
I thought I just needed to tick the boxes and move on,
But it turns out grief is real.
So I brought it round the world,
And it still seems to stay.
I miss ALL my mates, so I try to forget
That I miss you for good,
That you’re more than a long haul flight away.
You’ve silenced me mate,
And you know how hard that always was!
I don’t know how much it's the trauma of that day,
And how much will always remain just because
You’re not there.
I only hope that getting these words
Out of my head
Will help you realise what you mean,
And that you’ll just stop haunting me, please.
You always asked about my book,
And checked my facts, and seemed to believe
That it would work. So let me work!
I love you, mate, but I’ve got writing to do.
The worst day of my life, though? well THAT…
That was all about you.
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Sarah
non-member comment
So proud of you for writing this.