The Night I Tried To Kill Myself

I was just a young man standing on a bridge. There was a hundred foot or so drop down onto sharp
rocks below. I felt my body shaking from both my own fear and the biting cold. My mind was devoid
of thoughts, and only one feeling remained: misery.
My whole life had been drowned in misery. I was an only child of a household poorer than dirt. My
mother preferred pills and an endless parade of shifty men to taking care of me. My father died
before I was born. He was found dead on the floor with a bullet in his head. My grandma always said
it was an accident, but I know the truth. She probably was just trying to make me feel better, but I
never took to being lied to for the sake of my feelings. At any rate, I'd have offed myself too if I was
stuck in a relationship with that disgusting excuse for a human I'm forced to call my mother. Although
I suppose that's what I did anyway.
Or at least, I tried to. But as I was mustering up the gumption to finally jump after what seemed like
an eternity, the dull drone of distant cars and crickets was shattered by a voice.
"What's your name, son?" gently asked the voice of an older man.
My whole body jerked in confusion. Hearing words were like a knife in my back. It startled me to my
core, and I froze in response. I waited for a moment, hoping that he'd just leave me alone.
"What's your name?" He repeated.
I sighed, "Thomas."
"Thomas," he spoke softly. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Thomas. My name is Julian."
"That's my middle name," I said without thinking.
"Well, it's a good name," he chuckled.
For the first time in weeks, I actually cracked a smile. I wasn't even really sure why, it really wasn't all
that funny.
"What brings you here?" The man asked me. I was silent. I had hardly even said to myself what I
was doing there, and I wasn't about to share that information with a stranger.
"It seems to me like you're trying to do something you're not fully thinking through," the man spoke
with a kindness behind his words. "I've seen many people on this bridge. I walk it every night. You
can always tell who's here for leisure and whos here for other things."
"What's it to you?" I snapped back at him.
"It's very important to me, Thomas, that you walk away from here safely."
I felt a tension in myself release slightly at hearing those words. Nobody had talked to me like that in
years. Nobody had said that I was important to them in any way. Hearing that was a shock to my
system. I began to shake even more.
"I know I can't promise to fix your problems, Thomas. But please, don't jump. Please. I care about
you, and I don't want to see you hurt."
By now I was silently crying. Could someone really care about me when my own flesh and blood
couldn't even be bothered to?
"I was right where you were about ten years ago. Had nothing to live for, life full of problems with no
solutions. But someone spoke to me, and I realized that there was life beyond my pain. And I know
there's the same for you, Thomas."
I was shaking violently now. My tears clouded my eyesight. I didn't want to believe him, but the
sincerity of his words cut me to my core.
"You have a whole life to live, Thomas. Don't throw it down there on those rocks. You need it more
than they do."
I tried to respond, I tried to speak and tell him how he was wrong, how my life has never had peace,
how I'd never had peace, but I couldn't push the words out of my throat. All I wanted was peace. But
peace was something I was never privileged to receive.
"You'll have your life one day, Thomas, you will. You'll find what makes you happy, what gives you
purpose. But if you do this, I promise you, you will regret it on the way down."
I slumped down to my knees, crying. I could hear him walk slowly toward me and stop about 10 feet
away.
"You don't want to die, Thomas, you want to live."
"Call for help. Live your life. You will find your peace, Thomas."
A wave of clarity and calm washed over me. He was right, I didn't want to die, I never really did. I
pulled out my phone and dialed 911. When I looked up to see the man that saved my life, there was
nobody there. I looked around frantically. No one. Just the night air and the sound of traffic.
I ran away from home the next day, moved to the next town over and lived with a friend from school
that I had been pushing away for years. I explained everything that had happened to me, and
thankfully his parents let me stay for a while.
I searched for a Julian that lived in the town for months. I tried surrounding towns. Nobody walked
there every night. I eventually came to the conclusion I had hallucinated him, or some process of
divine intervention had happened. I really had no other explanation. But I still walked that bridge
every night, as a way to sort of honor him. I leaned he really was right; you could always tell when
someone wanted to kill themselves. I took it as my duty to save all those poor souls who couldn't
bear with their lives. I owed it to whatever it was that saved my poor soul.
Years passed and I continued to walk there. Through my life improving, living on my own, after my
marriage, even after my first child was born. All the while hoping deep down I'd run into Julian. And it
wasn't until one particularly cold night I realized I had already run into him,
Because I saw a young man standing on the bridge