He cried over the phone because he took a bullet for my baby. He was supposed to make it to the hospital. The hospital never saw his beating heart. Dead at 17.
I don’t need to know who this young man is to know that he was close to my boyfriend. My boyfriend does not cry when things happen. Whether it be his mom yelling in his face or many other struggles, he still does not shed a tear. Yet this young man made my boyfriend sob.
“He wasn’t even supposed to be there. If I hadn’t of turned my back to make a couple hundred more. His death is on me.” These are the words that are embedded into my memory. His heart breaking is carved in my skull. I listened as he became a little boy who just needs someone to hold him as he cries on your shoulder. He walks the halls trying his hardest not to burst into tears. I want to help my baby heal, but this is something he must do on his own.
I don’t like being here not being able to help pick him up and carry him. All I can do is walk by his side as he zones in and out of awareness, as I hold his hand and tell him he will make it through all of this and no matter what happens that I will be here when he needs to fall.
I promised I won’t leave his side unless he asks me to. His eyes are red from light feathered tears. His shoulders slumped unsure whether to carry this weight on his shoulders or let it bring him through the ground. His heart heavy with a guilt of it being his fault and me telling him it was his decision to go with you passing directly through one ear and out the other.
My deepest apologies to this young man’s family. Your boy was a dear friend of my boyfriend and he will always be remembered.