text: This time, I was really gonna launch myself off that cliff and end the life that has brought me so much pain and suffering. I was really going to do it. I walked from my house to the cliff that was only 100 feet in the distance, and sat on the rail dividing me from land and a few hundred foot drop. I probably did this once a week, usually during the late night when my depression kicked in like an intravenous drug. I never actually went through with it but tonight was the night. I had taken my mothers’ prescription xanax bottle which she had never used. 150 white alprazolam pills would end my life peacefully and quickly, as the medication slowed my respiratory system to a stop. Usually the feeling of guilt for leaving my family in the wake of my death makes me get off the rail, but tonight I had no such feeling. I only sat there thinking about all the reasons for me wanting to flatline, and there seemed to be zero cons on the list. My parents got divorced when I was 8 years old, and for good reason. My father was a conman who had gotten rich off a faked insurance accident on his business which netted him over a million dollars cash. The dirty money made him a greedy man who favored materialism over the wellbeing of his own family, as a new ferrari was more important than fixing the major plumbing issues in my room. My mother was a lazy woman who never had to work a minute in her life thanks to her well off parents who funded my dads start up. Overall, my family was a shit show of borderline malnourishment and physical abuse until they got divorced, which only worsened things. My father took me for the first 2 years, which consisted of me selling his forgotten designer clothing on ebay to keep myself afloat, while he was at social events every weekend. Finally, cpa busted him for neglect and I was turned over to my mother. I have been with her for the last 4 years and have witnessed her numerable partners treat her with the same disrespect my father had, while she continues to ignore me and make no change to her life. My parents have never appreciated me for keeping myself alive amidst their irresponsibility, and have never shown me even the slightest signs of love. Tonight was the night that I finally made them feel something towards my existence, or non\-existence I guess at this point. As my emotions boiled down I looked towards one of the only things that had kept me company during my life, a joint that I had prepared just for this night. I sparked up the crudely rolled cylinder of sharp smelling plant material and thin paper, and put it towards my lips. As I inhaled the bitter smoke my vision got brighter and my mood lightened slightly, but it was only like a hand on my shoulder when I needed an enormous embrace to get me off that rail. As I sat there smoking, looking at what seemed to be the last moments of my life, blue lights flashed behind me. I turned around and saw a police interceptor parked on the side of the road behind me. At first I panicked at the sight of police, just like any other young kid would in our day and age, but then I was only disappointed. I was disappointed that my last moments would either be spent with a cop trying to arrest me or talk me out of what I was so certain on doing. The car sat still for a while as I continued to puff on my joint, then the officer got out of the car and began to walk towards me. “What’s going on man, I got a complaint about a strong marijuana smell from the people across the street,” the cop said. “Look I don’t care about your complaint I’m ending my life tonight and I’m going to do it while enjoying a little treat, there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” I said firmly. The cop spotted my prescription bottle next to me. “What’s that,” he asked. “150 prescription xanax pills,” I stated, “they’ll kill me slow and peacefully in a matter of minutes, if I don’t die from falling impact that is.” The cop stood there behind me for a minute, and then much to my surprise, he let out a sigh and sat next to me on the cold rail. “What’s wrong with your life kid,” the cop said with empathy. “Nothing,” I confirmed, “Nothing at all.” The cop let out another sigh as I took a drag from my joint. “Look, if your about to kill yourself there’s gotta be a reason, there has to be someone you want to notice you, to hear your reasons, or you wouldn't be here right now.” I could feel the officer stare into the side of my head as I continued to look out at the water. “We both know you want someone to hear you out, that’s why you’re on this rail right now,” the cop said, “I don’t see anyone else out here with us, so you might as well tell me, right?” I could sense empathy in his voice and gave in a little “Alright, but I’m not gonna give you a big long sob story,” I said. The cop seemed pleased that I agreed to tell him, so I did. I told him my story in a nutshell, how I’ve always cared for myself and my parents were never relevant. After I finished, the cop put his hand on my back and introduced himself as Dave. “Can I see your joint,” Dave asked. “My joint,” I said alarmingly, “why do you wanna see that.” “I want to show you something,” Dave said calmly. Regrettably, I handed Dave my joint and he held it between his fingers staring at it. “You see all that ash,” Dave said as he flicked the end of my joint, sending ash swirling into the air around us. “Ash is material that has already been burnt right? Material that has already been spent.” I looked at him with surprise as Dave, the cop, seemed to be trying to make a metaphor out of my joint. “All that ash that just flew off the end represents your time spent here on earth.” I nodded understandably as he continued. “What If I stuck this joint in the sand right now, it would stop burning right? It would stop creating ash right?” Again, I nodded to show Dave that I understood his comparison. Dave then moved the joint close to the ground as if to put it out. “No!” I exclaimed, “please don’t put it out yet I’m not done with it.” “Exactly,” Dave stated, “you wouldn’t want to end this joints life because your not done with it are you?” I shook my head in agreeance. Dave sighed and handed the joint back to me as he adjusted himself to look me in the eyes. “The world isn’t done with you yet bud,” Dave said with his arm on my back, “sure, you’re parents wasted all their time which is now mostly ash, and unfortunately they wasted a little of yours too in the process, but that doesn't mean you need to base your life off of that.” Dave took a long pause as he watched his words settle into me. “Don’t waste your time kid, because before you know it, you’ll mostly be ash just like the rest of us.” Dave paused again and I looked at him and nodded. “It’s what you do while you’re still burning that counts.” I looked at him as an uncontrollable tear ran down my cheek. “I got it,” I said rather flatly, trying to hold back tears. “Now get off that rail and come give me a hug,” Dave said with a chuckle. “I’m gonna take your pills but you can keep the joint, that’s legal now. You’re ok.” Dave said as he embraced me in the middle of the street. “I’m ok,” I said calmly. *I’m ok. I’m ok.* I kept repeating in my head because I really was. I was finally ok.