I did stay after all the times I said I’d die that day. I did see my family love me. I did see my friends do care about me. I did see how I love my kids so much that just their pictures instantly make me happy - how precious they are, how lovely, and how nice it was to spend a few years of their life with me.
But everything ends now. Because it feels empty. And I feel alone. I know life goes on and there is time to bounce back. In fact, I did try. Multiple times. It’s been almost a decade since I last tried to take my life away. In that duration, I have rebuilt myself only to fall and stumble harder. Felt worser than the worst last time.
I cannot bear loving again and be treated like shit and gaslit into tolerating sketchy cheating behavior. I cannot bear loving friendships again and feel like I am replaceable. I cannot bear being ascribed as gay just because Im not as manly as painted by social norms. For fuck’s sake, I have loved my ex girlfriends so hard that it took so much toll to myself and yall can joke about my sexuality. No, Im not being fragile here. I just hate how I thought yall understood me but apparently dont.
I cannot bear wanting to enact positive things to the people I love if they cant bear to help themselves.
This time, no one gets to chat people out of the blue and ask how theyve been.
No one gets to make a fool out of me anymore. No one gets to extract benefit from me.
No, Im not thinking Im some important person on anyone’s life.
I am just drained. Empty. To the core.
Because choosing to continue is equally as strong as deciding to not take part in life anymore.
Good bye. I know it will be good riddance once my death becomes news to the people who knew me.
Yes, even now that im still breathing and alive, Im already someone you knew. Because I thought you all did know me, but Im wrong.
Goodbye. Good bye.
11:45pm, May 7.