It was the beginning of my senior year, and the group of friends I usually hung out with at The Mix (Wednesday night youth group church gathering) were not there. I hardly saw anyone I knew. So, I sat on the floor against the brick wall and began text messaging back and forth with any friend that replied. Growing up I was shy. I do not think I am as shy now as I was – especially in high school. I didn’t fit in with most groups.
A boy in which I didn’t know the name of at the time walked up to me and knelt on the concrete beside me. “Hey,” he said. I looked up and replied with a small, short, “hi” and closed my phone. “Why are you sitting alone?” By this point the group of friends he was with were standing about a foot or two behind him, just looking at me. I shrugged. “I don’t know anyone.” Then he introduced himself and told me that if I wanted to then – or any other time – hang out with him and/or his friends to just walk up to him.
He was nice. He was different. He had done something no one else had ever done before.
I logged onto Facebook and was going to check my FarmVille when I saw (don’t laugh) the people online on chat on the Facebook dashboard. One person in the small square seemed cute. I hovered over his name and then searched for his profile. I went to the website, Not A Day Promised, and after scanning the page, my mom and I knew what happened.
I didn’t know him well, but I still didn’t want to believe it. This depressed me; my mood was shot. Now I know three people who have committed suicide, and to me that number is not “just a small number”.
I didn’t know how bad Bipolar Disorder could be.
Anyway, I don’t really have much more to say …
I did write another post today; it’s Dirty Jobs. It tells how the other two kittens were saved.