Around this time last year, I was making my final decision about which college to attend. I had written many essays and filled out many applications. Along the way, I had the opportunity to apply for an Honors Scholarship at Walsh University in North Canton, Ohio. The application required an essay. The prompt I was given was, "What is the biggest mistake you've ever made? What did you learn?" I had to think long and hard, because I've made many mistakes. I kept trying to think of something I'd done that was different than everyone else. Teenagers make mistakes. That's how we grow and learn. I knew the committee wouldn't be impressed if I wrote about some generic mistake like, "I talked back to my parents one time." And then it hit me. There was one mistake I made years ago, one I am still having trouble forgiving myself for. As soon as I thought of this story I knew I had to write about it. And so I wrote about my friend, Ian.
Ian and I were best friends from kindergarten until fifth grade. We spent every lunch and recess together. He would read me ghost stories from library books to try and scare me. He caught me if I fell from the monkey bars. We shared snacks. He was the greatest friend anyone could ever ask for. But after fifth grade, he moved away to West Virginia. I was very sad to watch him go, because I knew I might never see him again. We exchanged email addresses to stay in touch, but it was still heartbreaking.
Ian and I still talked for about a year after he left. We would email each other a couple times a week. I always looked forward to his letters. But when we reached seventh grade, we stopped talking as much. The emails only happened every once in awhile, and the messages got shorter. In the summer between seventh and eighth grade, I sent him an email, only to receive an automatic reply that said the email address was no longer in service. I didn't have his new email address, his home address or a phone number. I had no way to contact him anymore. It felt like I had lost him all over again. Over time I learned to numb the pain, though I never forgot about him. But then the unthinkable happened.
It was late in October and I was home sick from school. My mom had just come home from work, which happened to be where I attended school at the time. She walked over to the couch where I was lying, watching TV. She asked me to turn off the TV for a moment so we could talk. She didn't look mad, but she didn't look happy either. I did as she asked and waited for her to speak. Quietly, she told me that Ian had passed away. I didn't move. I didn't cry. I went completely numb. I felt like I was in a dream, because it couldn't be true. Ian was my best friend. He had always been there for me. He couldn't be dead. It felt as though a piece of me died with him.
A few days later, when the obituary came out, the tears finally came. They stained the paper and left big blotchy marks all over the ink. I noticed that the obituary hadn't mentioned how Ian had died, so I turned to my mom. When I asked her if she knew what had happened to me, she told me that she was afraid to tell me, but I told her I had to know. My mom started crying too, but then the word came out. It sounded through the room like a terrible echo. "Suicide." It felt like the world stopped spinning. I couldn't think or hear or see or feel. But maybe it was just because I didn't want to think or hear or see or feel. He was gone. Gone because he didn't want to be here anymore. Gone because some part of this world was too cruel for him to get through.
Ian had been hurting, but I didn't even know. I didn't know why or for how long. All I knew was that I wasn't there for him like he had been there for me. I wasn't there to make him laugh or to give him a hug. Maybe all he needed was one person to tell him that everything would be ok. That could have been me. But it wasn't. And so I answered the first essay question. This was my biggest mistake. I should have made an effort to find a way to contact Ian when I first lost him, but I didn't. I shouldn't have given up. If I had known he needed someone, I would have been there, but I wasn't.
I moved on to the next question. What did I learn? I learned to never take a friendship for granted. Never give up on someone because they might really need you. You never know what you have until it's gone, and then it's too late. Tell people you love them now. Be there for them now. Do all you can because tomorrow isn't guaranteed. Life is full of unexpected events, and we can't always be prepared.
I pray that none of you will ever have to experience the loss that I have felt. Losing a friend to suicide is the worst feeling in the world, because every day I think of him and wonder if I could have prevented it. Bullying is an ongoing problem in the world today. If you know someone who is being bullied, be there for them. Stand up for them. Words hurt more than people realize. You might just save a life.
I will always remember Ian. I will always love him and I will always miss him. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him. 13 is way too young to leave this world. He had so much to live for, and I wish he could have stayed. I wish I could have helped him through it. I wish I had been there while he was hurting like he was always there for me. We live in a cruel world. So cruel that Ian felt he did not belong here. We all need to take a stand and make some changes in the world so that no one will feel unloved or unwanted. Everyone has a place in this world, and no one should have to leave the Earth before their time.
Rest in peace, Ian. I love you and miss you, always. Until I see you again.
"It's been a long day without you, my friend. And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again." -Charlie Puth
