A few weeks later
Warning: suicide, bullying
*
I still haven't been able to become intimate with Jonathan, or anyone for that matter, since I was with my abusive boyfriend, Brad Malone. I hate myself for not being able to do anything, but every time I want to, Brad's actions pop into my mind.
Brad's assault on me isn't the only thing awful in my life, and now, I have more I need to tell Jonathan, because my high school life happened to come up in conversation the other day, and I avoided it. It was hard for me to think of, of what to say instead of what actually happened.
Jonathan and I are sitting at my dining room table, going over some plans for our upcoming practices. I want to tell him now, to get this guilt of not telling him sooner off of my chest. I take a deep breath, then turn to face Jonathan directly. "Jonathan, I feel like I have to tell you this right now, because we're alone, and I feel really awful for not telling you this sooner, and it's really hard for me to say this because we were talking about my high school life the other night, and I didn't tell you the truth", I blurt out.
Jonathan picks his head up from his hand which he was leaning on, and his eyes meet mine. "What is it?"
"Well. This isn't really the easiest thing to say, especially since I had actually gone through them, and it hurts me to say I actually did this when I was younger. It's hard for me to talk about now-"
"Just say it Baby", Jonathan stops me before I can keep rambling on.
"In tenth grade...I tried to kill myself".
"What? Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?"
"I did. I cut my wrists, and I almost killed myself in my bathroom when I lived in Denver".
"Why, precious? Please tell me". Jonathan eyes prickle with tears.
"The bullying. The awful names, the making fun of me, all of it. It literally killed me. If the killing at least had worked".
"Don't say that. Tell me what actually happened".
"A girl, Mercedes, and her friends, thought it would be a fun idea to make fun of me for my life. I was the unpopular girl who only ever studied and studied even more when I had the chance. I was the laughing stock of my grade, and most of that high school. I had never made the effort to make friends, knowing Dad probably wouldn't be coach for long, and we would just move somewhere else. I kept to myself, and Mercedes had never let me forget it". I break out into tears, but I need to keep going. I'm telling him something that only one other person knows about, other than my parents and my sisters. "One day, towards the end of my first year at that school, I had somehow found the strength to fight back at one of her comments. She had looked at me, stunned. Then, all of a sudden. She yelled out, in front of most of the school 'it would make the world better if you just killed yourself'".
Jonathan gasps, almost silently, in horror. He slides his chair closer to me, one hand laying on my knee, the other holding the side of my thigh. Jonathan leans closer in his chair, his eyes meeting mine again.
"I went home that day, thinking it was for the best, felt like it was for the best. It would have been better for everyone that I wasn't still alive. I found razors in the bathroom, and broke it open so I had one small blade. I was the only person home at the time, since my mother still worked then. I had found a prescription bottle in the cabinet, and took most of them. I slid the razors over my wrists. I remember thinking that the blood was just a sign that I didn't have to live anymore, and that I was free of everything that had ever hurt me before. I was free from the pain and misery of high school".
Jonathan reaches over for me, and effortlessly lifts me onto his lap. I cry into his shoulder, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. His arms secure themselves around me, and I feel safe.
"Jada found me outside of the bathtub when she got home from school that day. My nine year old sister found me half dead, in a pool of my own blood in our bathroom. I slightly remember a faint scream, but the next thing I fully remember is waking up in a bright hospital room with my mother holding my hand that didn't have the cut wrist. She was crying, so hard".
Before I can say anything else, Jonathan starts to sob. His face is buried into my shoulder, and I lean in even closer to him. He cries, and I cry. I cry more, and Jonathan tries to stop, but he can't. "I'm so sorry, Baby Girl", Jonathan whispers. "I wish I could have been there to stop that pain. All of it. I know it was a long time ago, but still. I love you too much to let you go anywhere without me".
"I love you", I sob one last time, then my tears start to fall less and less. I look up, and Jonathan moves his head away from my shoulder. His eyes are puffy, and his whole face is red. His right hand leaves my waist and wipes away a tear on my cheek.
"Never leave this earth, Cynthia Jane Quenneville. I want to leave this world the same time you do, so we can be forever through all of eternity. Does that sound okay?"
"Jonathan. I've never heard anything more perfect", I laugh slightly. I slide my hand over his cheek, wiping his tears away.
"What if I asked you to marry me? Not now, if you don't want to, but someday. Marry me. Let me love you for the rest of our lives. We'll start our lives together".
"You're proposing to me?"
"There's no other way I could think is better than right now. For you know how much I love you", Jonathan smiles. "Will you marry me, Baby?"
"Yes".