Alone is where I know myself

My one and only attempt at writing in second person.

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I love walking in the rain – you can’t see me crying. Alone is where I know myself. No one understands.

These are the lines written on the opening page of your diary, Fi, before your thoughts even begin. But I guess these are your thoughts – they just aren’t restricted by time; they are constant.

I want to give up before I even begin. I don’t want to read through your private thoughts and struggles, but I want to know why. I need to know the truth. I need the answers only you can give me. No one else knows. As you wrote, no one understands.

Why, Fi? I need to know why. No one knew that you were going to do this. No one knew how you really felt. So why didn’t you tell anyone? What didn’t you tell anyone? What was so upsetting that life couldn’t overcome it? Nothing can be that bad, can it?

Your parents came and saw me in your room. Both have red eyes from crying. I guess that mine would be the same. Dearest Fiona, I miss you already. I don’t know why you had to leave. I hope you don’t mind me reading your diary, but you have left me no choice.

I thanked your parents for letting me into your room. Though I have been in there many times without permission, now is different. You changed everything. They say that they don’t have the courage to enter, and only I – as your friend – would be allowed in. I know that they want answers too. They had no idea what you were going to do Fi. Neither did I. No one did.

It starts to rain just as I reach home, and I think of the words you wrote. Why did you need to cry? Why was it that you did not tell me? Death may have seemed like the easy option out, dear friend, but did you not think of those you would leave behind? Did you not think of me? This may sound selfish, but you have ruined my life, dear one. I will never be the same. I will never be able to look at situations the same again, not without you here beside me. But maybe you are here. I don’t know if you went to Heaven, or Hell – though I certainly hope not – or whether you are a spirit, lingering between our world and the next.

I’m crying for you Fi. Are you happy now? Or did you just realise that there are people you left behind that really care for you? But now it is too late. You’ve already gone Fi, and you can’t come back.

Your diary lies beside me on my bed, but I don’t know whether or not I should read it. I don’t want to – it is yours, it is private – but I want to know what you were thinking. I want to know what drove you to do such a thing. I want to know what killed my best friend. That’s you, Fi, you are my best friend. Or should I now say were my best friend, seeing as you’re not here anymore?

Dearest Fiona, why? That is the question everyone wants an answer to. That is why I know sit here with your diary – your private thoughts and struggles – open on my lap. I’m sorry it had to come to this. But you’re not here now. You can’t stop me. I’d cry more for you, my dearest friend, but I don’t know why. This is the only way I can find out.

Alone is where I know myself. This is where I’m going to find you, Fi. This is where I will discover all that which you did not tell me. I’m going to find you where you are alone.