The Suicide Diary

by Rees, Kirsten

  Joshua now had a Father in his life and yet he had still come over the night before last to talk about him and had fallen asleep on the couch again.

  Over the last few weeks I’d learned that I was important to him and my life had some meaning to my family, and yet it had no meaning to me. I had no purpose - some people live for their career or the next adrenalin rush or even love. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is to stop myself lying there and thinking too much, and the only thing that makes my heart beat faster is running, which I had taken to doing lately when I can’t sleep at night. I didn’t know if I was making excuses because I was terrified of dying or if life was suddenly giving me reasons to live.

  And so, yet again I’ve found myself unsuccessful in following through with something – in this case my suicide – and now I have another incomplete record to show for it. I have nothing more to write about.

  Moving back home should have been good for me, but of course being constantly surrounded by people that know me and want to be involved in my life puts me on edge. I’d learned finally that other people can’t fix me; there’s nothing my friends or family could do to pull me out of this. And yet I had to for them. They deserved better than a sister, daughter and friend who couldn’t look after herself and lived in a varying cycle of ups and downs.

  I realised then that when I was with Conor, I’d felt helpless in trying to mend him when I know now people have to fix themselves. It wasn’t that I was weak or incapable of helping him; I was just a sixteen year old girl out of her depth. I either needed to end this or somehow learn to forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made and the things that have happened in my life. It was going to be a long process - writing it all down I guess has helped. So I’ve run out of story to tell, it’s unfinished – so at least I’m consistent!

  I won’t write again for a while, I need to live in the present until I decide whether I am strong enough to keeping living this life. I can’t bring myself to throw this little notebook away, it feels like it keeps everything on paper rather than my head and somehow I sleep better having it but for now my story is done.

  Like hell is it finished – where was he? Alex mentally calculated she would still have been around twenty-five by this point so just around the time they had met. There were more pages but part of him was scared to turn the page. He hadn’t come this far to back out now, so he took a breath and turned to the next page.

  Only to read…

  14. Alex - The Would-Be One

  The Would-Be One – what the hell did that mean? This was about him and he realised it was also the final ‘chapter’ in her diary. He wasn’t entirely sure how that made him feel. He was still trying to process everything and yet again, that little part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to read this. Had she thought he could have been ‘The One’ and then decided against it, or had he done something to change her mind about him? Alex knew the only way he was going to get an answer was to finish reading her diary.

  I love bookstores. I could spend hours just wandering around looking at all the new books, reading the back or inside covers, flicking through the interesting ones, deciding which to buy. I walked around the large store until I found the shelf which held all the ones by my favourite author. There was someone already sat on the floor in front of the shelves. I slowed to a halt just to his side unsure what to do. I tried to lean over his head scanning the spines of the books to find a title I hadn’t read yet. I couldn't help but give sidelong glance over the shoulder of the guy sat to my side. I couldn't see which one he was reading; he must have been engrossed because he barely registered my presence.

  He was in coffee coloured chinos and a white linen shirt with his feet tucked under himself and into dark brown leather shoes and no socks. If it wasn’t for the coat and scarf folded next to him, he would have looked quite at home in a desert.

  Well if it was the kind of desert you get on a film set starring the beautiful but masculine lead. He certainly had no place in my world and yet he looked perfectly comfortable sat on the floor cross legged in front of me. It wasn't until I stepped closer to pull a random book from the shelf that he even moved his head out of the book.

  And as if I hadn’t already thought him perfect, he choose that moment to look up at me with eyes of grey silk. I watch his full lips move – had he said something? I blinked a few times to shake myself out of this dream. But no, he was still sat there when I focused again. And now he was staring at me with a crease across his perfect brow. His eyelashes caressed his face and the silky curls on his head helped to soften his features.

  And before you start thinking it’s love at first sight....seriously, have you read anything I’ve written? It’s ridiculous and I’ve never believed you could work out a person completely in that first look. And yet, the first time I met Alex I felt something I can’t explain. He caught me off guard in one of the very few places I’ve ever felt content.

  His eyes shifted from me to the book in my hand and then back to me in an instant. "Are you alright?" he said in a gentle but deep voice. I was staring at him. Say something you idiot! "Yes." I said, and realised I hadn't taken a breath since he looked up.

  "Sorry, did you want by?" and gestured to the books in front of him.

  "No, I mean yes, I did, thank you" I replied.

  He stood up awkwardly, his bag hanging from his shoulder with three books under his arm and still trying to keep the place in the book he had been reading.

  I turned to the shelf in front of me to keep him from seeing the blush creeping up my neck. I scanned the titles and found what I was looking for. I read the back cover although I already knew the plotline.

  And then he broke the silence. "Have you read many of his books?" It was all I could manage to reply "Most of them." And then he smiled at me and my heart began to beat a little faster.

  The store was as quiet as a library, so I was sure he must have heard the fast drumming inside my chest.

  "I've never met anyone that’s read his books, I only discovered the author when I saw an article about him in Brazil last year...I was travelling through there" he added as if by way of explanation. I nodded and tried to make the words in my head come out of my mouth. "His books mean a lot to me" I smiled weakly, thinking I must sound like a crazy person but he surprised me when he replied "Yeah, I know what you mean." and then his eyes drifted away from mine and he seemed to be thinking about something else. I shouldn't be staring at him so blatantly, he probably did think I was crazy and was just being polite.

  I pulled my new book to my chest as if to put some kind of barrier between us in the hope of breaking this spell. I turned quickly to walk away when he spoke again.

  “Anyway I should probably pay for this before I get thrown out of here.” he said.

  I smiled a little, remembering that this wasn’t like the bookshop I used to work in where they encouraged you to take your time. He walked alongside me in the direction of the till and I didn’t know whether to hurry forward or stay at his pace.

  "I was going to get a coffee; I don't suppose you’d like to join me? It would be nice to talk to someone else who's actually read some of these books, maybe you could suggest which one I should read next!?" he seemed to add, almost hopefully. I didn't respond at first and so he added "Sorry, you're probably busy." he said.

  "I’m not, eh busy that is!" I responded in a way that sounded like I wasn’t too sure of my own day. The truth was I had nothing to do all day, or in the days after. He grinned again and gestured towards the stairs. I’d never felt so inconveniently attracted to someone in the way I did to him.

  Alex remembered this day so clearly. Like her he’d never believed in love at first sight but he felt this overwhelming urge to know her.

  He was so immersed in that book he didn’t even notice her at first. But then suddenly he became aware of someone behind him. Impatiently he half turned, meaning only to casually look up and convey his frustration at being disturbed, when he
found himself staring into the most beautiful but saddest eyes he’d ever seen. If she hadn’t looked so strangely terrified, he might have stood up and hugged her right there in the middle of the store. She looked so vulnerable it was a struggle to focus on his book again.

  I walked by his side to join the queue near the front of the store. Once we had both paid for our purchases, we wandered outside and I blinked in the sunlight. Walking at his side I couldn't help but notice the girls we walked past staring at him. One or two of them flicked their eyes over me and I’m pretty sure dismissed me as a sister or just a friend. But when I turned my head just enough to see him without being obvious, I saw he was already looking at me out the corner of his eye. He met my glance and laughed lightly without breaking eye contact. If we kept like this we'd end up bumping into someone.

  He stopped suddenly and put his hand on my elbow to guide me, but I almost jumped a foot when I felt his touch even through my coat.

  “Sorry, it’s just in here.” He said. His brow furrowed a little and then he nodded his head towards a doorway to his left. I followed him through a tall, wooden doorway and stepped down into a warm, slightly dark, cavern-like coffee house that I had never been in before. With a low ceiling, warm colours everywhere and the smell of fresh baking, it reminded me of a place in Italy and I liked it immediately.

  "My Father used to bring me here as a child and he would read to me while we ate and drank from all over the world." he said and I must have looked confused because he pointed to the menu on the wall which offered food and drinks from a variety of cultures worldwide.

  It was then I realised I was here with a complete stranger, I didn't even know his name. As if reading my mind, he held out his hand for mine and offered "It's Alex by the way". It was a few seconds before I realised he had his hand held out for mine. "Nina" as I gingerly placed my hand in his. I didn't fail to notice that he didn't let go of my hand, but instead led me to a table in the corner by the huge fireplace and only released me to sit on one of the large, comfortable seats.

  I sat down and grabbed a menu, grateful to be able to hide behind it. The waitress appeared and I couldn’t help but notice her eyes firmly on Alex. He could have been sitting alone for all the attention she paid me. And yet his eyes never left my face while he placed his order or at least what he could see over the top of my menu.

  I could feel the heat under my cheeks intensifying and I tried to sink further into the seat, pretending to flick through the pages. I'm not even sure what I ordered but once the waitress had gone I suddenly wished she would come back because it felt just a little too uncomfortable with just the two of us sat there. He was still staring at me with a gentle smile, seeming as unsure as I was as to what we were both doing here.

  It was as if something had drawn us together into that bookstore on the same day at exactly the same moment. It wasn't as if it was the only bookstore that sold Coelho’s books and certainly not the only one in town. It was a little unnerving that I felt a strange connection to this Alex.

  I was so deep in thought, I almost jumped when he spoke "I know this is most likely going to sound like a come-on but it's not, it's just when I met you in the bookstore, at first I thought I knew you, as if I recognised you but now I’m sure we've never met." It wasn't a question but I wasn't sure how to respond. In the past I avoided anyone that I felt this kind of connection with, even the few intense relationships I’d had, had a get-out clause. With Nika, I knew we couldn't just stay in Italy forever and our own homes were in different countries. And Oliver lived far enough away that it made it difficult to get in too deep. Back then, if I'd met Alex I would have made my excuses and left without a backward glance. I would have gotten out of the cafe and ran away from any possibility of connecting with someone. But something in me had changed since meeting my Father again.

  So I didn't run and I didn't even try to stop the conversation drifting from our mutual favourite author onto other things as we each talked about our families, growing up, our travels, what we loved and hated, and places we had been. At first I listened to him talk about his travels, asking him questions like I usually do, but soon we were conversing back and forth and when he asked me anything he let me ramble on without interruption, listening to me talk about some of the happier times in my life.

  I never believed you could get to know someone truly in a matter of hours but here I sat listening to Alex as he talked and laughed, using his hands to help describe a multitude of things in his life. I didn't feel afraid, maybe I'd run out of things to be afraid of, or perhaps I figured I could just enjoy this moment with this beautiful stranger and then leave and slip back into my non-existence. It wasn't like he could be the one - I'd decided a long time ago that if I was going to believe in such things then I must be half of a broken soul and destined to remain that way. This could just be one of the wonderful moments in life I looked back on. It might not come of anything. But the point was I was there and I was still there several hours and many cups of coffee later.

  And then he had to go and ruin it all. Why couldn't he just enjoy the pleasure of a coffee and whiling away a few hours in the company of a stranger. He asked to see me again. Just like that - as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And really it should have been. But I couldn't bring myself to say yes; in fact something like "ermiwha" was all that came out of my mouth.

  I slammed the door of the toilet cubicle shut and leaned against the wall, my breathing raspy and too fast like I was hyperventilating. I wasn’t ready for this, not sure I’d ever be ready for it again. I pulled myself together as best I could, walking slightly unsteadily back out to where Alex sat.

  "I'm sorry that was a little melodramatic, I just, I can't do this, it's not you..." I said.

  "It's not you, it's me right?" he replied.

  "No really it is me, I'm not good for you." I answered.

  He stared at me hard for a few seconds as if pondering something. "Did it cross your mind that I might be good for you?" he said.

  "I can't, it just wouldn't work" I managed to get out in between broken breaths.

  Alex had cursed himself for that statement about being good for her, he didn’t even know the girl. Yet he’d wanted to. He remembered in that moment feeling slightly desperate that he may never see her again. Ridiculously he spent his journey home contemplating visiting the same bookshop every week around the same time. He regretted not asking her surname, it would have been easy enough to track her down on any social networking site – if she used them at all.

  The following day I picked up my new book and settled down to enjoy a little bit of escapism. I didn't even make it to the first line. There on the inside cover was a small piece of paper with a telephone number and a line inked in neat, elegant writing.

  ‘Whatever reason you have, don't let it stop you from living your life. Alex’

  She had run from the room after he’d asked her out. He’d been knocked back once or twice in his life but that had to be a first. Something told him this wasn’t a girl to let go of so easily. Borrowing a pen from a waiter, his hand shook slightly as he scrawled out his number and that message.

  It was a minute or so before I realised I'd stopped breathing and my body took a desperate intake of air making me shake involuntarily. How dare he presume to know what I was doing with my life? He had no idea. But even through my anger I had to admit that perhaps he did know something of pain. Although I hadn't told him anything of that particular past of mine, something told me he had been holding back on me too.

  What did it matter anyway - I was still writing in my suicide diary so the last thing I should be considering was getting close to someone new. I shoved thoughts of Alex to the back of my mind. Day in, day out, I filled the hours with my usual little routine of breakfast, cleaning the flat, work some days, seeing Joshua on others and once a week I went home for dinner with my family. Occasionally I met with Ali or one of the girls and listened to their stories.

  Two weeks
passed and I read the two books I had bought in the store, along with several others I had borrowed from my Mother. I headed in to town and in to the same bookshop again. I could have gone to where I used to work but since I’d moved it was a little further away, at least that’s what I told myself when I wandered up the stairs to the aisle I was looking for. It was empty, I let out the breath I‘d been holding and tried to ignore my confused feelings on that. I choose a book from the shelf and went to walk to another aisle.

  “Hey.” came a voice from behind me.

  I turned but not without knowing who it would be standing there.

  “Hey Alex.” I replied.

  “So coffee?” he asked.

  My head nodded, while my mind was saying ‘no, no, no, no, what are you doing?!’

  I was sure I wasn’t his type and the only thing we would have in common was our love of books so that was at least reassuring. We spent another few hours sat hugging our mugs of coffee and chatting about whatever came to mind.

  I left in late afternoon but not without a promise to him that I would be in the same bookshop, same time next week. This went on for weeks as we spent our Saturday afternoons perusing the aisles and dissecting plotlines and characters. It was slightly surreal and I felt like one of the characters in a story where girl meets boy. Except in this one girl likes boy, boy is enjoying having company to discuss his favourite authors, but will soon realise girl is not normal and will exit scene.

  I was still waiting for that moment. Yet I willed myself over and over to say goodbye for good to this guy that could so easily jeopardise the careful balance I had constructed in my life.

  And then one day he did something that made my heart stutter. He stepped closer towards me and leaned down pressing his lips gently to my cheek. I think my heart skipped several beats with the tenderness in that one little barely-there kiss.