Chapter 3The 28th Floor Drop: Notes on a Crematorium

I woke up in the hospital. My best friend, Chloe, was by my bedside, watching the IV drip. When she saw me open my eyes, she burst into tears, hitting my shoulder, asking me why I did something so stupid.

I had just had my stomach pumped. I was incredibly weak, and my throat was too raw to make a sound.

I scanned the room. Then I turned my head, stubbornly looking at Chloe, silently asking with my eyes. Where is he?

She understood. She couldn't hold it back anymore. She grabbed my hand, sobbing like a child, trying to comfort me.

"Sarah, honey, can we just not force this? I called Julian. He didn't come. Don't you get it yet? Forget him. He's not worth your life..."

I closed my eyes. A single tear slid down my cheek.

Julian hated being threatened. Senior year of college, we had been together for three years. There was a girl who really liked him, but he always coldly rejected her.

Finally, her roommate told Julian that if he didn't go see her, she was going to cut her wrists. Julian was with me at the movies. I still remember his expression when he got the call.

He let out a cold laugh. "If she wants to cut her wrists, tell her to hurry up. Otherwise, if I go today, she won't do it. But tomorrow, if I don't go, she'll threaten it again. Do I look like a charity?"

He was holding my ice cream cone when he said that. It was winter, but I really wanted ice cream. He was worried I’d get too cold, but he couldn't bear to say no. So he compromised: he bought it, but he insisted on holding it, only letting me have a few licks before pulling it away.

It was strange. Cruelty and tenderness existed within him, side by side, without contradiction.

Back then, I couldn't let it go. I dragged him to the hospital to see that girl. He stood at the door of her room, frowning, looking annoyed.

"I'm going to say this one last time," he told her. "I love my girlfriend very much. Suicide threats don't work on me. You can slice yourself into stir-fry for all I care. Don't manipulate me with guilt, and don't manipulate the people around me."

I was afraid my presence would upset her, so I stayed by the door. Through the window, I saw her lying in bed, tears streaming down her face as she listened to him.

At the time, I was confused. Why would a woman want to die just because a man doesn't love her?

I didn't understand. I always believed a woman should be an independent entity, with independent thoughts, not relying on someone else's affection to exist. Why commit suicide over a man who doesn't love you? Life is the most important thing. You should be resilient and dignified. Besides a man, you have family and friends who love you. You shouldn't toy with your life.

I told myself I would never do such a thing.

But you don't know how bad it hurts until the knife cuts your own skin.

Many years later, that boomerang hit me. I became the woman using suicide to threaten Julian. And his attitude toward that threat hadn't changed at all in all those years.