Why is that stabbing myself seems like a beautiful way out of my misery?
More beautiful than friends, more beautiful than family.
The knife is right there, on the kitchen table, next to my cup of tea.
Tea. Or knife?
A simple stab is all it would take. Maybe two for good measure.
But for now I pick up the tea. I’m too cowardly to do otherwise.
I do not know why it is that I deteriorated so quickly. It just happened. It’s just happening. Taking it day by day was supposed to help, and for a brief while there, I went without thinking about ending life. By brief while, I mean one day. That’s a start. I do not know whether or not it will be enough to save me. I keep going to back to what the real solution is, but for some reason I refuse to oblige. I refuse to save myself, and it is honestly incredibly stupid. I do not know why I do not want myself to […]