Oblivio: Stories and such by Michael Barrish

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Story | Aug 28 2002

I’ve been corresponding with a young woman, a college student, who is both brilliant and suicidal. She plans to go to law school if she doesn’t kill herself. She hasn’t said this exactly, but that is the gist.

I am loathe to lobby for one choice over the other. Suicide makes as much or little sense as anything else (particularly law school!), and besides, it’s her call.

Many would disagree, but that, as my correspondent has pointed out, is a lot of crud. The ties that bind must be self-applied—and always are, ultimately.

Recently I asked her a question.

I’ve long believed that we each have a story, often unknown to us, that we try all our lives to prove true. As I see it, this is the key to understanding a lot of otherwise inexplicable behavior.

If I’m correct, what would your story be?

Note: It can usually be summarized in five words or less.

Note: This is a scary question.

Her response took the form of a meta-proof, a thing that embodies its thesis.

After some serious thought, I’ve decided that my story would be this: I am a lost little girl.

And yes, that scares me… but there’s nothing I can do about it. I wish I knew what the right choices in life were, but I can barely keep myself afloat as it is.

It wasn’t until I received her response that I realized what my own story is.

I am alone.