Ruining You Read Online Free PDF Page B

aware of
that.”
    Her words stun me. I had a
pretty good understanding of how my death would have affected my family, but I
never considered the results of a botched suicide attempt. I never thought
about how they would have to live with that knowledge. It was different when it
was just my secret.
    “Just think about that this
week. We will discuss it more tomorrow. Do keep in mind that we only have two
more sessions this week since it’s a holiday.”
    Standing, I really don’t
listen to much more that she says. I leave the office and walk back to my room
with my mind abuzz from the things she said. Grabbing my iPod, I lie down on my
bed. I put in my ear buds and listen to the first song that plays, letting it
blast into my head.
    I always knew that living
was harder that dying, but until today, I had not realized that it might just
be harder on those around me. Do they ask the same questions that I ask myself?
Why me? Why now? Why not me? Molly wrote me a letter a couple of weeks ago that
talked about how she blamed herself for not being there. I wanted so badly to
write her back to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and that she couldn’t have
changed anything, but when I sat down the write the letter, the words never
came. My mother also wrote a letter saying that she didn’t know where to go from
here.
    What have I done to those
around me? What have I done to make them second guess their choices and their
beliefs? Now, they have to live with the knowledge that I am actually willing
to do it. They now know that I will pull the trigger, slice my wrists, or
swallow the pills. What worry they must be going through. It doesn’t matter
what I want now; I made a promise to live. I will keep that damn promise no
matter what I do, but the people around me, they don’t know about that.
    God, I really need to get
out of this room. I grab my iPod and walk down to the common area. It’s a small
room with a couple of plush couches, chairs, and several wall-mounted flat
screen TVs. We are only allowed to watch a selection of approved movies, so I
never pay any attention to them. Looking around for a place to sit down, I
notice the only available chair is in the back corner. There’s just one
problem. New guy is strumming his guitar in the adjacent seat.
    Choices: Stay or go? Going
is the easiest, but it will leave me still stuck in my head. As for staying,
well, maybe I have been wrong about him, and it’s time I move forward. I
glimpse at him again as his shaggy brown head bobs up and down, lost in his
music. I guess he is about six feet tall, and even in my “nun-ish” state, I
notice he has a decent body. With his light brown skin and dark features, he
stands out. Again, I ponder why he is here. He has on a black t-shirt that fits
snuggly across his chest and worn grey sweatpants with the knees ripped out.
His feet are bare, but that is common around here.
    Making my decision, I walk
towards the empty chair as he glances in my direction. His fingers freeze from
strumming, and his dark coffee colored eyes warily stare at me. I shoot him a
small grin, and one of his eyebrows raises in question. Suddenly, I stop
walking and our gazes lock. I desperately want to turn and walk away, but I
can’t. My feet, on their own accord, start towards him again. His eyes never
leave mine.
    As I speak, my voice shakes
with emotion, “Do you mind if I sit here?”
    “Depends. Are you going to
bite my head off?” 
    Shaking my head, I sit down
in the chair cross-legged and fidget with my iPod. The weighted pressure of his
eyes clothes me in anxiety. Before I can place my ear buds in, I hear him clear
his throat.
    “What? Do I not at least get
a ‘Hi’ or maybe even a ‘What’s up?’” he asks, winking at me.
    “I thought we talked about
the whole flirting thing?” I say sarcastically.
    He chuckles and shakes his
head. He leans in and whispers back, “Last I checked, being friendly wasn’t the
same as flirting.” His eyes