Hollywood Bridge

I shivered sat on the edge of the bridge.
My bridge.
The bridge that had transformed my life 12 months ago.
I couldn't believe it was happening tomorrow.
Was I crazy, marrying a person after only having met them a year ago- and only actually being o speaking terms with that person for 9 months? Maybe. I loved her, I really did, and I still do.
It was stupid for me to expect her to remember the date, and stupider still for me to be disappointed that nobody had.
I just wanted to think and be grateful for all I had found this past year.
Exactly a year ago, I had been at my lowest point.
In ten minutes, it will be exactly a year since I jumped and a stranger saved me.
Exactly a year since I met Jake.
Then in an hour and 13 minutes, exactly a year since I met Ashley- who was expecting me at my stag party in 45 minutes.

5 minutes. This was when I fist met Jake.
Unlike a year ago, the car didn't whiz past, there was no car.
A familiar set of footsteps approached behind me. They sounded heavy like the owner of those feet was wearing combat boots.
"It's a beautiful night." I said without turning around.
"Yeah." Jake whispered.
"I'm not gonna do it, Jake. I swear I'll never do it again." I told him in answer to his unasked question.
"What if I don't yet trust your promise?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" I turned to him in confusion.
He pulled out a folded envelope and handed it to me.
"What is it?" i asked him.
"I found it here," he said pointing to a generic patch of rust on the metalwork. "Under a rock. Exactly one year ago."
I looked at my own suicide note in awe. It seemed so alien to me. I realized that the Ryan Smith who wrote that was someone else entirely.
"I never read it." He whispered.
"Why?"
"Because, the boy who wrote that died here a year ago, and his reasons for wanting to die were personal. I don't need to know anymore about that boy unless the man before me wishes it."
"But who is the man before you?" I looked into his eyes and saw tears in them. I noticed that I was crying too.
"The best man I have ever known."
"I would like for you to know about that boy who died here, Jake. And then, I want to burn him from memory."
He didn't protest or ask why. He slit open the envelope and read, his eyes skimming the words of a dead boy as his tears finally began to drip and mingle with the ink.
"I think," he paused. "That that boy is better off now. I think he suffered enough. I'm not saying I condone what he tried to do, but I do understand."
"I see now that there were other avenues I could have took."
"Good."
I pulled out a lighter and Jake handed me the note.
I burned it slowly, making sure every last piece was nothing more than ashes in the wind.
As the remains of that suicidal boy drifted off on the wind, floating against the few stars visible in the LA haze, I whispered, "Goodbye Ryan Smith. I'll never let you steal my coffin." and smiled.
Jake clapped me on the back, "Right! We have a stag party to attend!"

Notes

1-2 chapters left guys!
I cried when writing my own story! Is that weird?
Comment! :)