What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

The Death of Teddy E (SEE WARNING BEFORE READING)

**Note: If you are sensitive to stories of suicide please do NOT read this piece.**

There was no telling when he had snapped.  But he did.  There was no telling when he had lost control.  But he had.  And now, swinging back and forth from the tree branch he had chosen specifically for this purpose, Teddy E had finally found peace in a stretch of living wood and a length of synthetic rope.

His face have been unrecognizable to anyone who had known him in life, but Teddy would not have wanted it any other way.  He felt unrecognizable to himself in the moments before  the end.  Gone were the flashes of joy and moments of rage that had so defined him in life.  Gone were the feelings of despair, of utter helplessness.  For the first time in Teddy’s life he felt in control, and he liked the feeling even if he knew the price he was going to pay to get it.

Nothing in life worked out for Teddy.  He felt lost since his earliest memory.  The beatings. The lies.  The deceit.  The humiliation.  Those were his constant companions and his truth.  He found people would more often than not lie to him, to each other, and to themselves to achieve something unremarkable and fleeting.  They would rather kick him in the stomach than offer him a hug.  Teddy had learned from the very beginning that people were capable of horrendous things, and they would often reward themselves for their crimes in the most stupendous of ways.  The motherfuckers would even…well, fuck if he wanted to say.

He learned to associate the words “I love you” with some of the most horrible acts he could imagine.  He would often get beat with objects not meant to touch human flesh while being told “I do this because I love you.”  He would see her tell him “I love you” just after fucking some random asshole who was, of course, not him.  In his twenties, Teddy would often cringe at the thought of the word, most likely remembering some scar on his body or mind caused in the very act of that word “love”.  Now, as he dangled freely from the tree his last thought was of how some of the last words his Love had said to him were

“I love you, forever. And because that – above all things – is true, I understand. And I let you go…”

Now, in the hours before his end he let himself go.  This world was done fucking with him.  The love he had been so wanting to share with it was not good enough, and neither was he. He loved passionately, fought passionately, and was rash in his pain and in his reply to it.  Yet, he loved, and he was sure that as those who knew him looked at the closed pine box where he rested they would finally remember his love and not his pain.  They would finally know him for who he was, not who the bastards created him to be and not whom he seemed powerless to control.

She would know the truth finally.  It was not his fear that defined him, but the power of his love.  His Lover would finally accept him as he was, and love him unconditionally.  She would forgive him as he laid in a box she had not constructed for him.  The walls of their lives, the very walls that she built and loved above all things, would finally cease to matter.  She would touch the crate that carried her man and never need ask “why?”  The answer was in the silence, the very weapon she used against him.

His tormentors would come as well.  The very thought of them made him shudder as he prepared his end.  They would feign tears while telling everyone how Teddy had always been troubled.  Gone would be the fond stories they used to tell about the beatings.  Absent would be the echoes of a past that drove him to his grave.  Blame would be shifted from the guilty to those unable to defend themselves as it had always been.  Yet, as he stared blankly at the top of the pine box that carried him he knew they knew.  The tears and fears that carried the boy into manhood were started by them.  Yeah, they knew.  The motherfuckers knew and he could almost see them smirk at the thought.

Mostly though, he wanted to dry the tears of his Love.  He knew that, for her, those tears were temporary.  She would move on, if she hadn’t already.  They all move on.  He would turn to his friends and tell a joke that would get them laughing again.  He would remind them of the good times, the laughter, and the shit that drove them together.  He would forget the bastards and their smirk and focus on those who were always the living part of his heart.  He would show them that his pain was finally over, and that they could move on knowing that he had finally done something out of love for himself.

He would never know if his Love had lied to him and if she was just a loving figment of his imagination who had left him to dangle as had all the others.  She had seen all of him.  He trusted her with those parts of him he otherwise kept locked in some vault in the back of his soul.  In the end, her protestations that he could let them out were the lie regardless of what else she had done.  He was better off living the lie with her than living the truth without her.  Still, in this moment he didn’t care.  He just wished for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more moment of pure ecstasy.  It would never come, but of course he would find his way through the darkened misty waters where pieces of his heart floated by like debris from a long-sunken ship.  This time, however, he would do it a much different way.

“I am sorry I hurt you all, but I had to leave.  Thank you for loving me more than I could love myself.  Smile you douche bags, I am finally happy.”

Now had come the time of release, and Teddy knew that peace was on its way.  He felt fear, almost like the fear you feel right before a crazy roller coaster ride.  Yet, the peace he was sure was coming made that fear almost seem nonexistent.  Suddenly, a wave of emotion came crashing down upon him.  He cried in that moment like he had never cried before, and the numbness that had carried him here was gone for a moment.  The tears of a lifetime came out of him, as did the pain and the loss.  God, if he could only go back in time he would.  He would make different choices.  He would love her better, and never leave her any room for doubt.  He would choose to believe, he would.  He would never let go of what he had or answer the phantom voices that drowned out every other sound in his life.  He would forgive.  He would know.  He would be saved.  He would…

The rope snapped to attention and he struggled.  It wasn’t, as some would describe had they seen it, a struggle for life.  No, Teddy E struggled in the end to get to the light faster.  He could feel warmth there, and he know that light and that warmth would never leave.  He sensed it loved him unconditionally and without question.  Finally.  The light…the warmth…unconditional love…truth…everything that had escaped him in that experience of life he decided to end were coming his way.  He could feel it, and he could almost grasp it.  It reminded him of holding his children.  It reminded him of holding his Lover.  It was like those small pieces of love, happiness and trust becoming the big pieces all at once.  He could exhale, finally, and trust that the inhalation was coming.  Yes, he laughed hard at the irony.

Dedicated to all of those souls lost https://www.facebook.com/puttingafaceonsuicide

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1 Comment

  1. catecumen

    That is powerful. Yes, it’s hard to read, but it does speak to me, as someone who lost a dear friend that way not long ago. I couldn’t NOT read it. Thank you.