Stuck in the Middle / The Breakthrough
By: Aaron Vaserman
Tags: Beyourself, Suicide Prevention, Short Story, Depression, Suicide

Ten minutes after I jumped down from the edge of the fence while walking back to my house, a homeless man pushing a shopping cart called out at me “Hey! You!” he said. I looked to my left and saw nothing, then looked to my right, and there he stood. He was wearing a ripped beanie, a dirty brown trench jacket, crusty grey sweatpants, and slippers that looked like they were bound to fall apart at any moment. His skin looked covered under a layer of dirt and soot, obvious that he hadn’t showered in months. His black facial hair slowly faded to gray as you scanned his face, unable to see his lips while he spoke, muffled by the months of unshaved beard. Trying to avoid the interaction with the man, I stepped to the side. Instead of minding his own business, the man stepped over as well. “Sorry, I don’t have any money, if that’s what you want,” I said while emptying my pockets to show I wasn’t lying. The man looked up and down, peering into the window of who I was as a person from the outsider’s perspective. He looked sad, but determined. He took a second to catch his breath from pushing the overfilled cart. “I saw you on the bridge,” he said. Immediately, my expression shifted to a look of disbelief. “Before you think anything wrong of me, I’m not asking you for money or food, or anything like that,” he paused. I stared, wondering where he was going with this. “You like your life?” he asked me. Lying through my teeth, I said yes. He shook his head. “It didn’t seem like it on that bridge. Be honest with me, I’m not judging you,” he said. Before I could open my mouth and respond, he continued, “Before you say anything else, let me tell you a story about that bridge,” he said. Intrigued, I nodded my head. “It may not seem like it, but I wasn’t always like this. People walk by me every single day on this street and ignore me. But, I’m just as human as them, yet I am isolated, disregarded by society. People fear ending up like I am, but don’t feel the need to help those out of the living nightmare that is being alone in this world, with not even a home to come back to. Just yesterday, I was in the same position as you. I stood at that fence, wondering if this was the comfort I wanted, that I deserved. I see someone like you, a well-dressed and clean person, probably with a loving family and roof over your head at night, going through exactly what I went through. But none of that matters. Because what truly matters is how you feel about yourself. Going through the same thing you just experienced, I hated myself. Learning to be happy with who you are as a person can take your entire life, but you have to try. After stepping down from that bridge, I vowed to walk by that bridge everyday and wait for someone in the same place as you were and as I was. So if I can step down and push forward, so can you. Things may seem tough, and you may think that nobody has your back. There may be a lot of bad in this world, but someone somewhere is looking out for you. Sometimes in places you would never expect. If you ever want to talk again, visit the bridge, and join me in waiting to stop another innocent soul from giving a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” The man reached out for a hug, and as I embraced it, tears falling down my cheeks, I promised myself to try again.

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