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You're Not???

Posted 01-20-2019 at 08:11 AM by Nostroke
Updated 02-28-2019 at 07:27 AM by Nostroke

When i was in my late 20′s, i was enamored with this girl whom i thought was the most beautiful creature on earth. She was just my type-Five foot nothing, 95/100 lbs, long hair, perfect little butt, gorgeous and she glowed..She had recently lost her fairly long term boyfriend and was going through a rough time-feeling overly sad and depressed. She and i had been pretty close both during and after her former relationship.

She slept on her couch every night though her bed was 15 feet away. Sleeping on your couch when you have a bed is a known sign of depression- believe it or not-something about not wanting to admit to yourself that another day is over and another miserable one is coming up. She was also hitting the bottle and pharmaceuticals pretty regularly.

I hadn’t spoken to her for maybe 2 weeks when the phone rings one night around midnight and it is her. Let’s call her Ashley. The first thing Ashley says to me rather matter of factly is “I decided not to commit suicide”. I’m pretty shocked at this and reply that i really had no idea she had ever contemplated suicide in the first place. She tells me she had just told me earlier that evening in our last telephone conversation. (No conversation whatsoever had occurred). She didnt sound like she had been drinking (much) and i concluded she must have been speaking with someone else and is somehow very mixed up.

After a short while we conclude the converation which had been quite awkward due to her puzzling opening line and referring to a non existent earlier conversation. I had to somehow navigate through that without telling a suicidal person "You Don't Know What You Are Talking About!!"


I immediately start worryiing that maybe she IS going to commit suicide. Within 15 minutes of the call termination, I am knocking at her front door. No answer. I knock louder -a total cop knock. She doesnt answer this time either and i dont hear a sound inside. Im nervous as hell but i really dont have a clue as to what to do. This is pre cell phone days. Should i wake a neighbor up and have them call the police or an ambulance? What if i cause all this ruckus and she is just peacefully sleeping inside? She said she wasn’t going to hurt herself afterall. Maybe i should just go home?

I remember she has a large picture window on the back side of her apartment on the second floor! I head to the back of her building, hoping there is a tree that maybe I’ll be able to climb and get a look inside.No tree! The back area turns out to be about 10 feet long before it runs into a main street. It’s a scrub area, mostly dirt, small saplings, broken glass, beer cans and other indications that some drinking parties, probably by teenagers had occured there. The terrain sloped continuously until it met a wall bordering the sidewalk next to one of the main drags in town.

Her building is brick and i soon notice that approximately every fourth brick juts out slightly, perhaps 3/4 of an inch, at best, from the others. If this hadn’t been the case, I would have just returned home but now I am more or less forced to try to climb this wall- up a story and a half to get a peek inside. The alternative is for ME to kill myself the next day if i learn that she had been bleeding to death inside as i returned home.

I have zero experience in climbing anything other than a tree and that thad been 15 years prior but i soon begin the most difficult ascent of my life. I’m holding on by my fingertips and the edge of my shoe as i shakily move up this wall which is not meant to be climbed. Im not fully petrified as i figure a fall at maximum height wont kill me or leave me paralyzed but a broken leg and a roll through the glass is quite possible. I am definitley more than scared.

I truly believe i beat the odds by making it to the top without some sort of disaster or incident. I get a good look as Ashley’s couch, empty. other than a rumpled blanket. I note a couple of more things like an ashtray and half a glass of some liquid on the coffee table that tells me she didn’t depart that long ago. I safely descend and make the short trip back home, somewhat releived but still having serious doubts on just what the hell had happened. How could she have left in the 10-15 minutes it took me to get over there? She wasn’t going anywhere but to sleep when i had spoken with her. Was she now standing on a bridge? I worried most of the night.

The next day I am still looking for answers but none were to be found. Perhaps 2-3 days later i finally reach her. She vaguely hints that whomever she had called before myself, had arrived with the police minutes before i had (apparenlty) and took her to a hospital. She had indeed made made some sort of attempt on her life but im fairly certain it was half hearted -the proverbial cry for help.

She never truly understood what she had done to me that night as in her mental state she didn’t really remember calling me or much else from that especially turbulent evening. She had been in an altered state -one of detachment and/or amnesia. I was never real sure because i had no experience with anyone taking the mental journey she was on during those days.

I’m happy to say within a few months, she had found a new boyfriend and regained the better part of her mental state-hopefully permanently. A few years later, after another break-up she moved in with me (platonically) for 6 months or so. We never had an argument.

After 30 years of not hearing from, or even of her, perhaps 4 years ago she calls me out of the blue. She wanted to talk but relayed she couldnt speak right then, rather she would call me later that night. She really wanted to catch up. In a minute Ashley was gone and i never heard from her again. As out there as she was, I still miss her and think often of her and smile.


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