It is amazing how quickly a song can take you back to a moment in your past, like a reminder of how crappy being a teenager really was.
There are many stories of people talking about their horrid teen years. of being the outcast at school. The lone person.
Was I that person? No, not exactly. I was different, but I was different within a group of different people. Did we accept each other? For the most part. I guess as much as teenagers trying to fit in, make sense of life and school and pretty much everything. All waiting for that day we became an adult and everything would make sense.
The following was something I wrote when I was 18. It was during a very bleak period of time in my life. So bleak I may have projected it onto everyone around me.
I called it ‘A Tale of a Black Hole and a Group of Friends’
‘We all knew that it would be one of us. It was an unspoken agreement. One of us would get fed up, feel more hopeless than usual and just do it. The question was who would it be? Who would be the first to go and how would they go. It was only a matter of time, nothing more… and definitely nothing less.
We all spend our days standing on the edge, wondering who it will be, how it will go, and would we really miss them. Or worse, if it was us, would we be missed or would we fade out, like a background actor in a theatrical play. It makes little difference though; it’s our fear that drives us.
We around the black hole that could signify the difference of a life corrected or a life ended and we wait. Some of us try to pull away, grasping to ideals that will set them free of the path chosen when they all became friends. Interchangeable, we stand wondering how we got to be so much luckier the people next to us, wondering how they could cope with a life so much worse. We all wait, our demons holding us tightly and refusing to let us leave, until one of us takes the plunge. Who will it be?
Will it be the girl who boys walk straight passed, who never understands why she’ll never be loved and waits for a knight in shining armor to rescue her from herself? Would the need of someone to hold her in the dead of night drive her insane and will she take the plunge? Will we miss her and notice she is gone? Or will life pass her by, nothing in the long term will remind us she was ever there?
We stand without noticeable struggle, waiting for our defeat, wondering if it will be slow or if it will be over before we fully understand it.
Alone stands the boy who is afraid to be loved, who has a voice of an angel and flirts like the devil. Will he go, just plunge himself into the darkness for fear he could never keep the love away? Will we miss him, the girls in their infatuation and the boys in their admiration? Or will all thee feelings vanish with him and we’ll never remember his name, just that there was possibly someone there?
Will it be the Love that kills one of them, whether it is the lack of Love or the fear of it? We stand and wait patiently, itching to know who it’ll be, with our suspicions and our thoughts, hoping against hope that it wont be us, wanting to survive, but not wanting to be selfish at the same time.
The black hole seems closer than it was earlier. Maybe it’s trying to choose someone itself, tired of waiting for the demons to take control and push one of us in. Still, we wait and watch.
The most nervous is the boy who we all love to hate, who takes our feelings and hang them out to dry while indulging himself on any trend he can be addicted to. The more he tries to walk away, the closer he gets, his fear of the black hole pushing him closer and almost making him fall. We know he comes from a messed up family, and his exposure of us is a defense, but we long to see if he will be the first to go, his selfishness causing him to take the plunge before any or our demons can even try.
The black hole carries on swirling, calling to each of us in turn, with its seductive voice and promises. We long to give in to its lies, just so we can rest our heads and our feet. We all have been standing far too long.
Still there stands the girl who has it the worst, the girl who hates herself so much, she buries it in alcohol and camera shots. Bored by those who don’t drink, she stumbles at the edge with no one to catch her. Swearing she’ll take her demon with her, they stand there, clutching each other like long lost lovers, while she tries to seduce any boy into becoming her lifeline. We all know she’ll fall eventually, but will she fall into the black hole of our fears and take the plunge?
Or will it be the boy who everyone thinks is funny and witty, who hides his emotions in jest. Will his final joke be to plunge himself in the black hole, while all of us stand there and laugh. He seems so far from the edge, but we all know that sometimes what we see isn’t always as it is. The reality is far stranger than the fiction.
All alone, with no one close to her, stands the girl with the battle scars visible. She holds these people at arms length, wondering what her next move will be. Forever cautious or the black hole. She has already put a foot in, just to see how it fits. Although she is free of it, she can feel its warmth and knows she will be easily seduced by it. Just one more scar, and she will take the plunge. And unlike the others, she listens to her demon speak, hoping to find a way to make it go away, knowing that someone has to take the plunge and knowing in her heart that it should be her, because she deserves to stay the least.
But still we wait. Watching the black hole, trying to avoid each others gaze, least someone sees how close we are to the edge. When we look up, we see the tattered and worn connections that hold us together, so worn that if one of us does take the plunge, no one will really follow. We all know someone has to go, and we don’t want to be attached to that person.
So we wait, holding on to our small little rays of light trying to make sense of it all. Trying not to be the one who falls. We deceive each other, pretending we further than we are, knowing they are closer that what they say. And we wait. No one can change what is about to happen, because there are plenty more around the circle who are bound by us to stay. They to can take the plunge in stead of one of us, but we know in our hearts that in order for it to be really over, it has to be one of us.
So we slowly choose how we will go, from suicide, to drugs. From alcohol, to reckless driving. We know that inevitably one of us must go, and that at least it will be on our terms.
We all hope that it will be quick though.’
I was right about one thing. One of us must go. The only thing is back then I thought it meant that one of us was going to die. End it all. More specifically, I thought it was going to be me.
Where my lifeline came from, and how my life changed so drastically I will never fathom. Life did indeed change. It still remains a dark scary place that I remember from being a teenager.
However, I have learnt to see the wonder and amazing aspects of life. That it is not just one big tragedy but a mish-mash of many different things making up a big picture that I hope to look back on one day and say ‘Hey, it was one hell of a ride, but it was worth every second.’