I’m not scared of death. The world had been living without me for millions of years till I was born and I’ve never felt any pain, never suffered, never tried-and-fail, never felt desperate for all those years. I think it was a pretty good deal. I don’t mind going back to that deal.
But (there’s always a “but” for every problem or it wouldn’t be a problem anymore)… for every action we do there are some costs, some consequences. And if I decide to end it now someone else will have to pay and bear the costs and consequences of my action. And that’s not how I want it. I’m not that selfish. Especially when those people are the only people I love the most.
I know that no matter when I do that someone will suffer and will get emotionally hurt but that’s unavoidable.
I can only wait for the right moment to minimize those consequences.
And till then I have to drag this bag of bones that is called my body and I have to endure this bad joke that is called my life. I’m tired of it. I’m sick of it. And I can’t escape it, at least for now.
I have a positive thought every time I wake up: Today I’m a day closer to my freedom!