Living this way is drowning. You’re dying, your legs are getting tired, your arms are getting slower. Your breathing is ragged, your mouth is full of water. It’s like a sped up battle for your life, flailing and gasping, heart pounding, ears ringing, the cold, while at the same time everything is in slow motion. It seems to stop. Or it doesn’t stop at all. It just stays there. You’re dying, but you never stop. It never ends. You keep taking that last gasp all over again. You keep dying. But you never die.
Every time I try to write a note I just keep writing I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I know you just want me to be happy, but I can’t. You want me to stay and be happy, but I can’t be happy here. I know I hurt you if I leave, but I know I hurt you when I stay.
I wish I could take back everything, but I can’t.
I’m trying. But I can’t stop thinking, I can’t stop drowning.