On Being Lucky

He was killed in front of me but the waiting at the hospital was the worst. Maybe it’s me but it all feels like lifetimes ago. I always thought that we would make it, I guess not. Being the only one to get out hurts. He was the first person I knew to die from gun violence. He wasn’t the last either. It changes you. Losing someone always does but it changes you more when it comes from such violence. At his funeral I think I died a little bit inside. He always knew what to do. I never knew what to do. I still do not know what to do. One day he was gone and I never really moved on.

I am still waiting for him to say that It’s okay to move on. He is not here and I miss him. I just want him to come home. I’m breathing I’m alive but I’m alone. All of my friends say that it will be okay because it has to. There is no other choice it has to be okay. For a long time I couldn’t move. I practically sat on my best fiends couch for 3 months. eventually I had the bright Idea to move. I moved has far aways as I possibly could. I wasn’t living. I still don’t think all of me is here. I don’t think that I was always there but I was never really there at the same time. I became a completely different girl than what I once was. He still here haunting me. The only person who scares me is his killer. I never understood the anger it takes to do something like that. this is the last thing I wanted. Life is really like, you meet people, you love them, and then you lose them and you never see them again. It’s inevitable and it happens to everyone. and there is nothing we can do about it.

When you witness something the first thing they tell you is that you are lucky. I’m not lucky. If I were lucky he would still be here and I wouldn’t be writing this. It feels like every one moved on and I’m the only person stuck here. Even after I left i’m still there waiting. I let him use me and I would continue to do it over and over again. He took care of me and I took care of him. We had a system and it worked. I never had to do anything with out him by my side. I was there at his side. When he called, when he cried. He left me all alone. I know that is not his fault but it still feels like the world is ending. Our friends would ask me how I was doing and they would let me lie. They would say we don’t have to talk about. I would pretend that losing him doesn’t feel like drowning. Our friends just sit there sorry thinking of something to say. Anything to say. No one knows what to say when a teenager dies.

What do you do when the world is ending. How many years am I supposed to feel like this. I was one of the only people to make it out. Maybe I should have just stayed home. I don’t tell New people about my life back home. My family back home calls me lucky. I don’t feel lucky. I wonder if I will make it out alive. I took the car and my dignity and left. It took some time but I understand it now. I know what made me think leaving was the right thing to do. I wasn’t the lucky one.