First off a confession of something I've been needing to get off my chest for a while. I've done something I'm not proud of, in fact everytime I think of it, I get sick to my stomach and genuinely feel loathing for myself for it... but before we go into that, some background story is needed for you all to understand the situation I find myself in.
You may recall in my last entry I mentioned I was going off to Manchester again for a few days. Sometime in April I think it was. As it so happens I did, and I had a good time like I hoped I would. That however was not all that happened. I met a girl there, not a new aquintance, as I had spoke with her in passing before, but it was not someone I knew overly well. Her name was Shadia. She like me was staying there to get away from her troubles... though as it so happens her troubles are much worse than my own. She had been diagnosed with Cancer... and not the kind of 'we can beat this cancer with kimo' storys you hear about.. I mean truely infected with it. She had it all the way through out her system. She had been diagnosed with it at 16 and now at 18, she was just waiting to die... she knew there was no 'getting better'. All things aside though, she wasn't depressingly morbid with it... or if she was, she did good to put on a brave face, as most people do. So as the story goes, I spent some time sitting and chillin with her. As people go, she was very much like me. Simular kind of humour, simular tastes in music and such. We got on well and I get the feeling she liked spending time with me... though of course that could of had something to do with the drug cocktail she was on. I'm not entirely sure what medication she was on, but it was serious stuff. It meant that one minute we'd be nicely chatting away, and the next she'd slip out of conciousness for a little while. it was diconcerting to say the least... until you got used to it... and as in her room she always had a movie of some type playing it didn't really matter, as when she'd go silent again, I'd focus my attention on the film for a little while til she came too and decided to speak to me again.
We spoke about many things. I asked her all about her diagnosis, and her life before it. As it so happens she had a 'life diary' as she called it.. I think. It had extracts and pictures from her life. Of her and her friends, of her growing up and just a visual and written account of her life. It was amazing to look through... as well as heartbraking. I saw the transition of this girls entire life before me, as well as pictures of her before she had been diagnosed. Now to say this girl was a stunna is an understatement. She was the kind of girl I would of knawed off my own right arm to be with once upon a time. Funny thing is you could still see the same beauty in her now.. I mean she had vastily changed from the picture taken of her 2 years prior, mainly due to threpay, drugs, and the steroids she was constantly on now. She had gained a lot of weight, due to said steroids. Behind all that though she was still the same person, and I could see that... not to mention she had a personality that went with mine very well... Fact of the matter is, I know I most definatly would of been attracted to the girl she was, and even now if I let myself could be attracted to the person she was now...
... but saying all that, I knew I wouldn't allow myself to be, and here in lies my shame. Over the few days we hung out it became obvious that she had got attached to me somehow... I would use attracted too... but in my mind I'm not so sure thats the case. Through talking it was made clear to me that her friends from her life previous somehow couldn't make the change to encompass who she was now, and she hardly saw them. That also extends to all the male company she must of had fawning after her once upon a time. They too had long since stopped calling, and weren't around anymore. Simply put she was desperately lonely, a feeling and situation I know a lil something something about. I felt devastated for her. I mean until 2 years previous this girl for all intense purposes had lead a full normal life. She had not know illness, or disability at all I wouldn't imagine. Now here she was so far removed from the life she was once living.. so much so she found herself in the predicament of being lonely and reaching out a hand to someone like me.. Someone who could emphasise, and who in her previous life, she probably wouldn't have shown the time of day too... and this is what my petty little mind fixated on. I knew or at least thought I did, that she was lonely, maybe even more so than I am or have felt... I also knew that she was dying, and she did too... I also knew she most desperatly didn't want to die lonely.. and was hoping that I would maybe help her make that not be the case...
.. However I could not, and would not. I knew I wouldn't be strong enough to. I mean I saw no future at all in this pairing, I knew she was dying... I knew that given however many months she had left that a pairing between us would be very unfruitful... I mean I'm pretty seriously disabled myself, and as time gets closer to her death, she'd become increasing so too.. What kind of romance could be achieved between 2 individuals such as we... and most of all as hinted too above, I knew she didn't want me. It mattered not who I was, she just needed, someone.. anyone to fill that void of loneliness... and as hinted to above, if things had of been different, she would never have bothered with me.... and all these reasons, plus others I can't quite put into words right now made me not do what I feel I should of done now... and I didn't take that hand she had reached out for companionship... Though as only a coward like myself could do... I didn't full out right say no either... *sigh*
We exchanged numbers, as she was very keen for me to come visit her at some point at her home. I took it, and fully at the time intended to keep in touch. Though as I got home the realisations that I pointed out above started to come to my mind more often... Whats worse is she continually kept texting me, saying how she missed me and other such romantic notions. I tried too... but for some reason, I just couldn't return the sentiment. I knew what she wanted and that was someone to show her some kind of romatic affection, and I just couldn't bring myself to lie to her. All I had to do was fake it for a while... and while that sounds awful to say, I know if I'd of given it a little effort I could of done. Let me explain..
It wasn't as if I didn't like this girl as I really did... Faking it may be a little strong, but I most certainly could of over amplified the way I felt about her, and she would of been none the wiser. I could of played the role she would have me play, I know I could... and I could of played it well.... but I didn't, and wouldn't allow myself too. I wasn't going to take the chance of falling into this role, and actually really falling for this girl.. I wouldn't be able to handle it... and still in the back of my mind the thoughts of 'she doesn't really want you' just wouldn't stop playing.. and I knew deep down it was true...
So... the texts for a while kept coming, and I kept replying, but always keeping them friendly and making sure not to return the romantic overtones... What a coward I am, I should of just been clear with her. Anyway, eventually she must of caught on that she wasn't going to get from me what she was hoping... that I wasn't going to be there for her how she needed. Eventually the texts slowed down to nothingness... and I never once bothered to make contact when they just stopped. I tried to justify my actions to myself. I mean technically, I hadn't done anything wrong, or so I'd have myself beleive and well hell she didn't really like me anyway right? or so I told myself...
Anyway the beginning of July comes around and I get a phone call one morning from this Place in Manchester I go stay. Shardia had died. They thought I should know, as it had been mentioned at the place that we were friends... I hung up the phone and felt a guilt the likes of which I had never felt before... I hadn't spoken to this girl for months, and had tried hard to keep her from my thoughts, and here it was now, I couldn't do it anymore. The woman on the phone had said 'we were friends'... what kind of fucking friend lets there friend die lonely like that. Of course I don't know that she was lonely at the time, we hadn't spoke for months, but the thought of it chills me to my core.. what if she had been? I could of made sure she hadn't... hell I should of done! If anyone could understand what she was going through, understand the fear of leaving this miserable excuse for a life with no one, then that someone was and is me. I know her fear, as I share it. I feel the sting of being lonely...I feel the hopelessness of it all just as she had, and I fear more than anything leaving her alone.... and yet I did nothing to help her. I should of done something! I could of done something. I could of eased her pain, I could of been there for her... yet selfishly I wasn't. I had done to her, what I am sure many women in the past have done to me, and discounted her from my heart on the pure fact I saw no future at all in investing in such a relationship.. What a fucking asshole I am. I mean shit, this wasn't even about me. Who cares if she in her heart of hearts really wanted me or would have wanted to be with me if things where different, what the hell did that matter. It shouldn't have.. and what would it have mattered if my feelings for her were geniune or true, if I could of just made her passing that little less lonely? None of that petty shit I had been thinking about really mattered now... she was gone forever... and I have to deal with the fact I wasn't there for her. I should of been there for her....
This feeling is whats been haunting me for the passed few months. As it is I try to push it out my mind any time it starts to linger, but I don't think I can just get rid of it. I am so ashamed of myself for it. I've felt shame before, but never like this. I feel pure anger at myself... at my selfishness in this matter. You always want to beleive that deep down when it really matters, you will do good, and do the right thing. I didn't, and now can't convince myself anymore that deep down I'm an okay individual... I'm not. I failed when it really mattered. Though Karma as it seems isn't without its sense of justice. As things stand now... I am sure I will know exactly how she felt on her deathbed, as it seems I'm fated to die in a very simualr fashion... alone. I'd like to feel sorry for myself for it, as I once used to, be as it is now, I feel that such a death is aptly deserved. If I could let someone die in such a way, feeling how I feel, and knowing what I know, then I can see how it most easily can, could, and probably will happen to me.. and you know what... I'd deserve it.
*laughs* ohh one more funny little tid bit to add to this story.. I was in manchester again recently, at the same place. My brother came with me. As it is (not supprisingly) I haven't spoken about this with him, or anyone. We were just chilling out in the computer room at this place, when he looked up, and on the wall was a picture of Shardia.. one taken before she got visibly ill and she was looking as bueatiful as ever..
Bro: 'Damn, who's that?'
Me: 'oh a girl I once knew called Shadia...'
Bro' Damn she's Peng! (Translation: Gorgeous)'
Me: 'Shes dead, she died of cancer...'
Bro:' Damn.. thats a shame... cancers a killer, shame someone should die so young'
Bro:'Did you know her? were you friends?'
Me:'I knew her.... we were...'
... and thusly ended the conversation. I couldn't bear to go into the story or to look at that picture any longer. On the picture was written 'Shardia' and the words 'Angel'... if that is true, and there is such a thing as angels, and she is one, I hope she can forgive me... as I'm not sure if I can forgive myself.
Shadia... I'm sorry.