I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Death. I keep waiting for it to come to me but it refuses. Maybe there is something out there for me. Some bigger plan that I’m just unaware of. Or maybe I’m meant to die, by my own choice.
I would definitely do it different this time. Screw the pills, they didn’t do anything for me last time. But this time would be different. This time I couldn’t fail. I would jump. I would find a place overlooking the beauty that God blessed us with and I would hurl myself into the fresh chilled air.
The wind rushing through my hair. The feeling of being breathless. The sweet silence that only comes before death. Then one last second of pain before nothingness. I dream about it. Whenever I’m somewhere high up I think to myself, “Could this be the place? Is this where it ends?”
I can’t do it. I can’t give up on my life. My family needs me. My friends need me. I need to stay strong and pretend like nothings wrong. I need to hide away my pain and be the foundational support that I’ve always been for them. It’s always for them. I only have one wish in this life, and I’m willing to give it up. Only for them.