Lets play a game. A game of grief, and guilt, and What-If-I’s.
What if I’d turned to him, instead of brushing him away, and said I loved him too, and I was sorry?
What if our son had been awake, if I’d put him down for a nap just a half hour earlier?
What if I’d just swallowed my pride, and walked, and left him to be angry without me around?
And what if, in the imediate After… what if I stopped, and tried to.. do something. Cut him down. Ease the pressure on his neck.
Why I even be capable of that, a dead wieght twice my size…?
What if I’d been there, been stronger, the first night he was in ICU? Stayed, instead of run?
And what if I’d been there more, in the ICU…? The doctor there, she told me “His blood pressure drops perceptably every time you walk into the room?”
Had I been ther e more, would he have pulled through? Given the oxygen deprivation.. would that have been a good thing, or not?
What if I’d picked something up, days, weeks before this happened? What if I’d done things differently?
What if I’d founf that fucking orage rope in the garage, weeks before this happened? Would he have just assured me it was nothing..?
And would I have believed him?
Of course I would.
What if i’d known, hanging was so quick, so violent? Known that it didn’t matter that his feet would touch the ground if he jumped, the damage would already be done?
What if I’d pushed him, hit him? Would it have been me, who ended up in the ICU instead?
Would have been better, or worse?
I know.. pointless questions. Time is impossible to turn back.
And this, it’s horrible, it’s the most awful fucking thing in the world….. but it is what it is.
And those questions will never be answered.
Things don’t happen for a reason.. that has to be bullshit.
It’s simple pyschics. A heavy object, a fast drop… and a nerve in the neck I’d never even heard of.
And it boils down….. to this.