There's a shade of difference for me, in terms of the people for whom I feel an obligation, one that burdens me with the guilt of sticking around for- and for those who, while that is still an influencing factor, are more so on the list because I love them, and I know that they love me, and that it would devastate them horrendously, especially after they've already both lost people close to them from suicide. I'll list the latter.
One of them is like my brother- we're not related by blood, but he's essentially my older brother. We've been there for one another through some horrendous, permanently life altering things- he wouldn't be alive without my direct intervention, and his hospitalization still haunts me- and even asides from the mutual shared horrors, we're keenly similar. It's rare to find someone who you feel really understands you, sees you for who you are- and loves you anyway.
It's kind of funny, he so often picks apart the nuances of my thought process before I can elucidate it myself, and I find myself finishing his own conclusions: because our minds work in a very similar way, and we've been through different variations of similar trauma. We can pinpoint each others' most likely reaction to a given situation even without having spoken to the other yet- and when one of us goes missing, we're the person other people immediately hunt down to find out more, because they (rightfully) assume we know the most, and that we are who the other would reach out to first once made possible.
Because of that- in knowing him as well as I know myself, I know precisely what my death would do to him: and it's an agonizing thing to contemplate. It would, as he's said, break his heart. We've spoken at length about my suicidal ideation, and I know that it hurts him- in that he wishes he could make things easier for me, has literally said he wished he could take on some of the burden of the pain and senseless hurt. And it's painful, to see how difficult it is for him- I know how much he cares for me, how much he loves me. He's a big reason that I keep struggling to persist.
The other is my childhood friend, who I've known for over half of my life. We grew up together. We're not in constant contact, more so intermittently- but I know that he's expressed to me that it's incredibly meaningful to him that I have always, always been his friend- and that no matter how long had elapsed, both of us still have a deep affection and tender place for one another in our hearts.
He's told me that I am the one person who still kept by his side, even after a massive life upheaval: we've been there for one another through terrible romantic relationships, the implosion of friend groups, all the awkward, bitter messiness of growing up- of trying to figure out how to be people. No matter who we've become- whatever music we listen to, friends we have, style we're rocking, hobbies we pick up, jobs or accomplishments we undertake: we have always remained friends.
Our friendship has a core of nostalgia just based on the length of time we've known each other, and all of the shit we've endured: but it's especially meaningful because of the sense of security and trust in that, no matter who we become, what we do, or where we go- we'll still always be friends. He's a rare constant in my life. I would hate to take away the comfort that I find in that in its equivalent in his.
