He killed herself

[Anarky]

Thoughts of a twisted mind: He’s killed herself

6:45 am, Sunday. My doorbell rings. I wouldn’t even be up at such an hour if I would have had a job. Anyways, it rings and in front of me is my best friend since I was eight. He tells me, crying, that „he“ is dead.

Okay, maybe I need to go into detail. I moved after second grade and changed schools, lost contact with said buddy for a long time. About 5 years ago, he suddenly called, in summer, asking me whether I wanted to go swimming with him and a friend of his. There I met him. I met him twice in total. Two afternoons, that’s all. My buddy on the other hand knew that guy very well. They were close friends until they lost contact about two years ago.

So, my buddy’s friend is dead now, I’m shaking, I’m nervous, I don’t know what to do. I drove my buddy home, told him to go to sleep, his girlfriend just waiting for something big to happen, like she always does. His mother and a woman I didn’t know were sitting in the kitchen, where I decided to get myself a hot chocolate, since I had to drive home again, with my buddy’s car and no license and I was tired, so I needed the sugar rush. He’s going to pick the car up later today, which actually doesn’t matter. I am confused, I honestly don’t know. I have no idea what to do now.

So, my friend’s buddy committed suicide. He hanged himself. Of course, he left a note, explaining why he committed suicide and who doesn’t need to be sorry and all that. I haven’t read it, but I know its content. I left my friend at his place and drove home. Now I’m sitting here, waiting for a thought that comforts me, something I could tell my buddy, who is most likely at home, sleeping and crying like he always did during the hard times. It wasn’t the suicide that messes with his mind, I know that. Also, his repeated phrase while lying on the backseat of his car “If I only knew” makes sense now.

The reason why he killed himself, man, this is so hard to write out, not because of the vocabulary, the grammar or anything language-related, but because he wasn’t himself but still, he was. Apparently, he didn’t feel like a he… he was a her. I hope you get what I mean. She felt she was a woman, and not a man. She was not Andreas; she was someone else whose name we’ll never know. Apparently she killed herself because she felt, she knew, that she would never ever be accepted as a woman. That’s why she hanged herself.

And now, I’m looking for something to say. Of course, she was still the same person, of course she was Andreas, but yet she wasn’t. So, my buddy said “If only he knew” and I ask myself “What would have happened then?” And I know that suicide was maybe the best solution, as sick as it sounds. We live in a small city of about 16,000 people. In our neighbourhood, everyone knew everyone. If neighbour A burped to loud, neighbour B through Z knew it within 5 minutes. She lived in a similar place, smaller flats, older buildings, it doesn’t matter. I know that her neighbourhood would have disrespected her in every way possible, being the retarded morons they are. She wouldn’t have been able to live near our city ever again.

And then, being the enemy of the state I am, the questions came. Who are we to judge over a person’s inner life? Who are we to tell people “You’re a guy” or “You’re a girl”? Can we even do that? Who allows us to do that?

And of course, now, that I have calmed down a little (although I’m almost crying here), the more existentialist questions come up, which can mainly be summed up into one question: Does the body always match the mind?

What can I tell my buddy? He’s blaming himself, since he was apparently mentioned by name in that last letter of hers. But I don’t know what it said, and to be honest, it is none of my concern. That note had nothing to do with me.

Thank you.

Rest in peace – nameless, young woman
1985 – 2005