Have the lives taken by suicide at our school not been enough of a red flag? This is our call to action.
In this new chapter of my life, I find humor in your malice. The breakup was messy. The way you decided to process my actions and negate your missteps has just made it easier for me to realize how low I set my own standards when I decided to be with you. Now I know what I deserve. I know anger, denial, and mudslinging are how you cope, and although I shouldn’t respect you, I can’t help but have a loving disposition towards you and a genuine hope that you find happiness and success down the road. Having you in my life taught me a lot of things. As my first love, you taught me how to love someone else. However, it wasn’t until you were long gone from my life that I was finally able to learn how to love myself.
I took my midterm exam at 7:30 p.m. After finishing my exam, I signed the Honor Code, and wrote “see back” on the margins to orient the grader to the work on the back of one of my exam pages. In the following days, I received a terrifying call that I think this campus is all too familiar with. Of course, I was not informed of my status, but was forced to walk all the way to Nassau St. to the Honor Committee. This is the first reason I support the proposed reforms.
And this is where I scared you off. Not consciously, because you still smile a genuine smile at me when you see me, but that little thing where I thought you noticed me too was extinguished. I expected too much from you, too fast. Instead of finding a way to deal with my mental health issues, I pinned my happiness on you.
LOVE & LUST: How to tell your best friend you love her (and, alternatively, how to really screw it up)
I always thought I was good at improv. In class, I could win a debate on a topic I knew nothing about or improvise my way through a confrontation with a disgruntled voter when needed. But when it comes to what’s important, sometimes you want a script. A script endlessly revised, reworked, tried out in different vocal registers, and said with different patterns of emphasis, all to get it just right. So it was on that truly, truly inopportune night when I decided it would be just right to confess to my best friend of several years that my feelings had stretched far beyond platonic.
All I had were questions. What did I want? What would bring me happiness? What would fill the aching void in my chest?
I wasn’t here for most of this semester. You might have seen my body walking to class or biking to practice, but mentally?
I’m ready to be your acquaintance. There are a lot of reasons I don’t like you. When we dated, you still weren’t over this girl that you had a huge crush on from back home.
Sometimes you’ll see me standing outside with my head tipped back towards the winter sky, imploring the clouds to dip close enough to brush against my face the way your words touched my soul.
I used to believe that love worked in one singular, particular way; that I would meet one person and they would be the first person to ever hold my hand, my first kiss, my first date, my first time and that I would marry that one person.