“Just give me your hand!” I desperately cried,
But the thundering waves of hurt drowned out my voice.
“There’s no hope for me.” he responded in defeat,
But I wouldn’t let go, “I can help you, don’t give up.”

He was sinking quickly and I was too weak,
The sea of insecurity and anger was rising up around us…
Suffocating me, drowning me,
It was getting harder to breath.

And then it struck me,
Like a cold and merciless dagger to the heart.
If I didn’t let go, I too would be sucked into the depths of despair,
The bottomless pit of self-loathing.

The choice was mine.
I could hold on a little longer,
I could try to save him and be pulled under myself,
Or I could release my grip and let him sink into the unrelenting darkness
that he alone had created.

I wanted to help him; I wanted to rescue him.
But I just couldn’t let go of my will to live…
So I let go of his hand.

By: Natasha Spiers, 2007

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