I really wanted to stay totally silent, but I wanted so much to clear up a few things but I’m too much of a coward to ever tell the people who’d like to know. Cowardice has been the greatest stumbling block for me. I was afraid of being a normal human being. I was afraid of others realizing I had messed up. That’s why I pushed away my family and friends. When you want to be perfect, your avenues close quickly once you get out in the real world.
Still, that wasn’t really what pushed me over the edge. I could live with shutting myself away from everyone. It was the boredom. It could be argued that boredom is a luxury – a equilibrium of no desires so pressing or reachable that one is moved to act on them. And that’s also why I won’t try anymore. I’ve been out here long enough to see that there’s nothing I care about enough to live for. There’s nothing new, and I see nothing to compelling with the old. There’s nothing anyone says to me now that I haven’t heard before, so of course I wouldn’t be interested in what anyone else has to say.
I had always thought that if I were to kill myself it would be the result of some inconceivably horrible tragedy and that I’d mark the occasion with some beautiful words. Maybe I’d even be stopped by some beautiful girl who swore to be by my side if I’d relent.
That’s not to say it wasn’t painful for a time. But eventually pain numbed into monotony. I don’t think I have such a thing as a girl of my dreams who could dissuade me even if anyone cared. That’s really the heart of the matter – all my dreams withered and died. It’s a completely passionless, disinterested decision. It may not even be a decision as much as it’s the next natural progression from here.