Someone saved me last week from hanging myself. The loneliness was driving me mad. Yet, here I am again contemplating death. It is my refuge from the emptiness of life.
Now, I want to die because I simply don’t enjoy it. The one person who brought me joy and color to my world is now dead. I’ve been trying to move on and find happiness in the connections of those still alive, but I don’t enjoy spending time with people. Nor do I have the energy to try and find a new close companion.
So, I just sit in my room, waiting. Waiting for something to happen. A phonecall, a storm, a light of inspiration.