I could have saved her. 8 years ago, I could have saved her life. She’d be here today.
I could have cared enough to tell her to get sober. I could have told her I was concerned. I could have told her I knew. I could have been frank.
I could have said all of the things I would have said if I had the chance to say them today. She might have listened to me, of all people—her “Sister.”
I could have told her I would help, I could have taken her to rehab. I could have walked with her every step of the way. I could have invested real love in her life. I should have.
I could have saved her life 7 years before she had even left it. The mistake is all mine. One costly mistake.
Why the hell do we think people only need our help when there is a crisis?! Because we’re too wrapped up in being complacent, busy and selfish.
Then, when life is lost, we pat each other on the back, with blood on our hands, and tell each other we’re not to blame.
‘It’s not your fault! It’s okay.’ But that’s bullshit! It’s not.
And it’s not what people need to hear, either. It’s what they want to hear and what we need to say. It’s easier that way.
We repeat the same dead words everyday, as if old practices, proven ineffective, can somehow lead to change.
Maybe if more people started carrying the weight of the guilt or at the very least, took the initiative to glance the perspective, lives really could be saved!
Maybe people aren’t just lazy, crazy, addicts and liars, bad, worthless people, or the latest entertainment in small town gossip, whispered on your cell phone’s front page and daily text messages.
Maybe they’re just regular people; hurting, broken and sick; in need of one person close to them to actually invest in their life, not lean on their love along the way!
Maybe they just need someone who won’t use and abuse, ignore and label, lecture and judge them; someone who won’t close the door; someone to f*cking stand in the rain, right beside them and say,
“I’m not leaving. I won’t let you die. Not 10 years from now, not tomorrow, not ever. Not today. I don’t care what you’ve done, where you’ve been or what you say. I’ll wait.”
But we don’t. We exchange glances and stares, cigarettes, whiskey, stories, photos or dope, and excuses, and then pretend not to notice the rope when it breaks.
But it’s not our fault. We didn’t know. We tried once or twice. We did all we could do, right?
Lies. All lies! Fueled by wounded perspective, closed doors and guarded hearts.
And sponsored by the cost of someone else’s life.