My existence or 'Do you wish to undo this mistake?'

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Do you ever wish you could erase your entire existence?

Submitted: April 19, 2015

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Submitted: April 19, 2015

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Have you ever sat there and wished that you didn't exist? 

 
Not that you were dead, no. I'm not talking about being suicidal. Have you ever just sat there wished you'd never been born, that you'd never been conceived, that you'd never been thought of? 100% never existed. 
 
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate my life. I'm constantly amazed by the little things. Coincidences, like when the tempo of your indicator matches that of the song as you're driving through the city or when you think of someone and then the phone rings and it's them. I'm amazed by things that are larger than the entire population combined, fascinated even, I mean, how can the fact that the entire universe, all of space and time and a singular brain cell are nearly identical. 
 
That sort of stuff amazes me. 
 
Yet still, here I am sitting here wishing I never existed. 
 
I mean, this past week should have been one of the best of my life. After years of hard work I graduated from my degree. The feeling of relief of accomplishment, and out of the thirty odd people that started my course (I went to a small specialist private college) I was one of seven, only seven that made it to the end, stuck it out and passed. That's pretty impressive. But no. 
 
See, for some time now my relationships been broken. 
 
Four years ago I sat down in the yard at lunch time, my final year of high school and I saw a girl. Not just any girl but the girl I knew then and there was the one. It took me a long time to say anything though. When I finally did Work up the courage to tell her I liked her I got a really generic reply 'oh... Well thank you for telling me but I don't want to ruin our friendship' great huh? So the year continued, she was a year younger than me, and that entire year my dream was for her to invite me to her formal (prom if you're American or probably any nationality apart from
Australian). It happened. I was so happy, I stepped out of my comfort zone, I dressed up, I did my best (although admittedly it was still a poor effort) to be a great date. I searched for a tie to match her dress even though it was almost impossible to do, I got her the perfect corsage which cost me 3 weeks pay (at the time I had a really shitty job that I got one 2-3 hour shift a week and got 20-30 dollars for) I thought this was the start of our relationship. But it wasn't. 
 
So time went by, the years changed and as Valentine's Day rolled around, I searched for a small but perfect gift for her. I found it. Not much but a New York calendar, she'd looked for one for a long time and couldn't find it. I hand made her a small card with one of her favourite Disney cartoon characters on it. I was so excited. It was the first time I'd had someone I wanted to be my valentine. But, a week before Valentine's Day, after saying for a while we should go on a 'fun date' she told me she couldn't do it, we'd never work and we were better as friends. I sat there at the time, crushed, broken hearted, crying. I'd never loved someone before her (even though I'd not told her) and I'd never had my heart broken before. But that did it. However, I refused to go without a fight, no guilt trips, no begging or pleading, no saying she owed me or whatever. I sat with her and talked with her and she came to the conclusion that no, she couldn't live without me. 
 
So, she started uni, I started 'uni' and I promised her I'd be there for her. I started my course so I could be there for her, I called in sick to work on her orientation day for uni and her first day of uni so I could be there for her. I was physically there for her at every opportunity and there emotionally at every other. We had lunches together, sometimes with her mum, walked the city, talked and laughed, I helped her when she was overwhelmed with uni work. If an assignment needed done and she couldn't do it or she was so stressed and worked up by it I did it for her, she never asked, she never expected. But I did it because I knew she needed the help. 
 
One thing I forgot to mention is that a few days after the almost-break up-that-wasn't-a-break-up-because-we-weren't-dating incident I did something I'd never done before. I wrote her a love letter. Kind of. I told her that I loved her, I had since I met her, and there would never be someone who came close to her. But her happiness was what meant the most to me, and whether that was with me or not that was all I wanted. I never gave it to her at the time, I sealed it in an envelope and stored it safe. 
 
About half way through the year I did something else I'd never done before. I bought jewellery for a girl. She was, and still is, the only girl I'd ever bought jewellery for. I bought her a necklace that reminded me of her, petite, beautiful, not in your face but undeniably special and elegant. A few weeks later I summoned up the courage, I gave it to her, I told her I loved her, I put my heart on the line again. I got 'I can't say it now' and I understood. I have her the letter at this time too and told her to open it when she felt the time was right, that it explained things. 
 
The year went on, I lost the last of my grandparents, that was hard, nothing between us changed.
 
Towards the end of the year she went overseas. This was two years ago now, remember when it looked like world war three would break out any day because of the whole US/Syria/Russia thing? Yup! Then. And she was off to the land of soft drink and obesity (sorry Americans I still love you) I worried myself sick for months, and the day before she left I spent the day with her, I cleaned her room while she slept, I prepped her house for her to go away, made sure things were safe, secure.
 
She left the next day. Just before she left she messaged me, and told me that she loves me 'with no strings attached' what that meant, though I didn't know it at the time, was 'my family can't know' 
 
She was gone almost a month, I worried myself to death most of the time, lost incredible amounts of sleep staying up til the early early hours of the morning to talk to her (at night over there) and I waited for her to get back so we could talk about the fact she said 'I love you' 
 
The lack of contact after something so big was torture. I'd written her one letter for each day that she was there except the first and last. The first day she got one for the plane and one for when she landed. The last day she got one for the morning and one for the plane and a set of four haikus (I'm very in love with all things Japan) that formed one full love poem. 
 
She got home. And we never really talked about it. 
 
Something else had happened while she was away. I'd gotten sick. At this stage I didn't know it was something to worry about. I was (and still am) young! It never crossed my mind it could be serious. But nonetheless I got sick, shrugged it off, and eventually the symptoms became a new normal so it didn't seem strange. I never saw about it. 
 
Fast forward through Christmas, new year (spent apart) to the next Valentine's Day. More firsts. I spoiled her, how could I not! My first Valentine's Day with a girl who loved me, sure we might not be dating? But still. Flowers, books, Valentine's teddy bears, chocolates, the card. The whole kit and kaboodle! We spent the day together, we laid in her bed side by side and she watched TV. I watched her. I went home and spent a few hours with my family for my mothers birthday. I'd spent 20 of them with her by this stage. One with someone else was okay. I got a Valentine's card, sort of, a picture emailed with a short message. I was over the moon, but felt strange about it. 
 
Maybe it wasn't about it. Maybe it was because I was sick again?
 
Fast forward a few more months. After realising I had symptoms of something unlikely, but potentially fatal, after realising I had spent the last 3-4 months living off codeine, that id barely eaten, that SOMETHING was wrong, I was sick and very sick I saw about it finally. 
 
Things move slow, doctors ignore you or simply don't understand how bad it is, times wasted, money's wasted, specialists are booked out and booked for months later. The world keeps spinning, you get sicker. 
 
Fast forward another month or so. My 21st. A big one a time to celebrate, to be with your friends, family, the ones you love. 
 
No celebration, I was sick. No friends, drugs had become more interesting and important than me more than a year ago. I spent my birthday at her house. She got me nice presents. Great for me. We went and she got her P2 license. I spent a few hours at home with my family. I was sick. 
 
Fast forward three weeks. She had a major assignment due. I was incredibly sick, yet booked in for investigative surgery, Friday the 13th. Two days before her birthday. 7am wake ups, 2am bed times working working working on her assignment, I couldn't fail her, she couldn't fail. She never asked, never expected. I did it because she needed. 
 
The day before the surgery. Her assignment was due. Finished, sent to her, submitted. 
The night before the surgery. Sick. Violently. Drained, tired and for what felt like a long time lonely. 
 
Friday the 13th. 
Afternoon surgery, the morning without food, the nervous waiting. She was there, as comforting as one can be from the other side of a screen. Before I knew it I said goodbye, I'd been told not to take personal items beyond clothes, off to hospital, pre admissions forms, the surgery waiting room. Alone. Walking through to get changed, speaking to the anaesthetist, walking into the operating theatre, lying on the cold white slab of a bed surrounded by faceless people in masks and hair nets, being poked and prodded with needles. Then the unforgotten, almost comforting familiarity of the anaesthetic flowing through my veins, the burning sensation in my throat and the warm, peaceful darkness of drug induced sleep. 
 
My life changed forever while I slept, dreamless and unbothered, comfortable for the first time in a long while, all the time my insides being poked, prodded, cut, burned, cauterised and inspected. Biopsied. The blissful ignorance of drugs induced sleep. 
 
Waking up groggily, the post surgery bed room, the surgeon came to see me. 
 
'So how do you fix it?' 
'It's a chronic disease, we can treat it' 
 
What they don't tell you is hiding in that word 'chronic' is incurable, life-long, forever, til death do us part...
 
Home. Scared. Confused. I put my brave face on, picked up my phone and messages her, I told her. I don't quite think she understood the seriousness, I still don't quite think she does. But she was going no where. That was good. 
 
Her birthday went fine, lunch out, gold class movies. Then heading home, an accident at her house. It didn't sound bad, I insisted I go with her I'd seen accidents like this before, I knew they could be incredibly scary. I knew she'd need me. 
 
She did. 
 
I think it hit her then that with a few small changes in how things played out it could have cost her her life. She cried, shook. I hugged her, comforted her. But never in view of her family. She perked up. I left, her family wondered why. 
'I don't mind he's a nice guy, I like him' 
'he could have stayed for dinner' 
 
Fast forward a few months. I'm wondering if we'll ever be a normal couple, if we will ever be a couple. 
'But we've been together for over a year, last year in the city us walking around, we've been together since then' 
 
Well... I'd been in a relationship for over a year without even knowing it. I guess that's good? Her parents will know soon? Her family will know? 
 
No. Excuses, reasons, no. 
 
I encouraged her I told her it would be okay, I helped her. I offered her support with it, tried to help her see that it would be okay. But she couldn't. soon soon soon. Once this happens I can. After this I will. 
'I'm bringing the two most important things in my life together I have to be careful not to ruin either of them' 
 
'Okay, I understand' 
 
A part of me now wonders if my understanding, my gentleness encouraged it, made it okay to leave us in no mans land. 
 
Fast forward. The things she promised would make her comfortable with us being an official out there couple came and went, and became excuses as to why we couldn't be. It started to place pressure on our relationship, things weren't as happy as they used to be. 
Fast forward. I got sick, they changed my medication for a time. Much more serious. More arguments. I was still a secret. We were still a secret. 
 
Christmas, came and went, I worked. No family to spend Christmas with as such. I couldn't spend it with her and hers because I was still a secret, and my family. Well to say it's a dysfunctional family is nice. 
 
Fast forward through more months, more excuses, more pressures on the relationship. I got sicker, I got better. I had more tests. They were abnormal. Specialists, MRI's. 
 
'We may have to change your medication' 
 
The scans weren't good, my illness hasn't been controlled well, I've not been in remission for as long as I thought, possibly not at all. Constant damage. 
 
'This medication is very serious, it can lead to very rare cancers. Most of them are terminal' 
 
Fuck. 
 
Fast forward, a month, more pressures. We're almost over now. Apparently, we don't have fun. 
 
'I can't help but compare us to other people, we don't have fun like they do in their relationships' 
 
They don't have to hide it, they don't get rushed out of their partners house before their parents get home. They don't have these restrictions placed on what they're allowed to do in their relationship, how they're allowed to treat their girlfriends. They're in relationships. We're hidden, we're not together in your families eyes. We're 'just friends' two years on and we're just friends. 
 
I'm going to miss her milestone birthday, I won't be her boyfriend for it. Her best friend hates me, because she does. She doesn't even have a reason. She's immature and selfish. She knows this about her best friend. Her best friend forces her to choose between each and her, refuses to even listen to my name with out saying how much she hates me. 
 
I can't ask her to choose though. So I go with it. 
 
Her families best friends son and fiancé hate me. 5 years out of school and they still carry on like teenagers and hold stupid grudges based on lies and bully me. 
 
I can't go to her birthday. I can't be at my girlfriend, my soulmates milestone birthday. Because I'll ruin it. And the worst part is, I don't have to do anything to ruin it but be there. 
 
I am the biggest problem in her life... I am the biggest problem, in the person I love's life. 
 
It breaks my heart, shatters it. Into a million tiny pieces. 
 
If I stay with her, I hurt her. I force her to keep us a secret (have I made it so?) the strain on our relationship grows, we head towards the impending end of things can't change, but there's nothing I can do to change that. 
 
If I leave her, I hurt her. She needs me. Truly, she does. She needs the support, my help. She's incredibly strong, but beautifully fragile. And if I leave her, I'll break her heart. I'll break my own. 
 
So I walk the no mans land in between. Unhappy with everything, but still happy with her. Two years of not knowing my place, two years of hurting her by existing. Two years of purgatory. Two years of heartbreaking love. 
 
So that's how I'm sitting here now, on the eve of possible horrible news. Waiting, hearing the clock tick down to the next permanent, terrifying change in my life. The moment my specialist says. 
'The medications not working, we have to change it'
The moment cancer becomes a horrible real paranoia inducing possibility, in the prime of my life. 
 
That's how I'm sitting here now, mourning my almost, but not quite broken relationship, with the girl I want to marry. 
 
That's how I'm sitting here now, tired, exhausted, scared and writing. 
 
That's how I sit here now, wishing I never existed, wishing that I had a button In front of me. Wishing I could 'undo' my life, my existence like a mistake on a computer. So it was never made, never existed. 
 
That's how I sit here now, wishing I could take back the pain I've caused her by just existing. Because hurting the person you love more than any other is a long torturous death. And when you do so just by existing and you can't change that is heartbreaking. 
 
'Do you wish to undo this mistake?'
YES  NO
 
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A note for the reader:
 
I know this story isn't perfect. It's not meant to be. I'm not sure exactly WHAT it is meant to be. Maybe just therapy. 
 
Is it a true story? Or a work of fiction? 
 
I'll leave that for you to decide
 
2:46am
20/4/15
 


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