you, too, think he was a coward, no?
“what a pussy!”
“he quit too soon, what a shame!”
“never thought he was the suicide sort!”
you have conveniently forgotten
that you too had tried to end your life
a zillion times but stopped –
not because you mustered the zeal to stay alive
but because you realised
that staying alive was easier
than killing yourself
with your own bruised, battered hands
you realised that you would be despised
because suicide is an act of cowardice
and you won’t be the hero you were meant to be.
so calling him a coward makes you feel braver
but you don’t know that.
you don’t know that he knew
that you would call him a coward and say “he was no hero!”
he knew you’d despise him
but he went ahead anyway.
you don’t know that we all die
fighting different battles –
while some of us wait
wait for time and fate and destiny
to end our battles for us
some others choose to end their own battles
even when they are unprepared
even when their head their heart their hands scream
pleading for them to stay, to live.
but they silence all voices, and say their goodbyes anyway
because they no longer want to find out
if they failed the world
or the world failed them.
[Sadly, even after he gave his all to the world, the world could not save him. But maybe he saved himself. Maybe he has finally found the peace he was seeking. You will live on forever, Chester Bennington.]