Today I’m going to kill myself. Â I’m going to finish my day at work and when I’m done, I’m going to kill myself. Â I’m going to take the bottle of muscle relaxers and drink the bottle of wine and die in the spot that the homeless man sleeps when he’s drunk. Â When they take my body, they will have to clean the area and that will be good for him.
Alex will be so sad but she will write great songs about her feelings and go on to enjoy lots more success. Â She will meet someone new that will love her better than me. Â Her life will be better than it would have been with me.
I was born broken. Â The drugs don’t work. Â I am missing something for which there is no prosthesis. Â I am not meant to be here. Â The best thing I can offer is to correct the mistake that I am. Â I think this will benefit everyone I know or would have come to know.
I wish I had some money or credit to blow on a final indulgence, but I have nothing. Â This act of taking the pills and drinking the wine; it is my last pleasure to have. Â This isn’t even an interesting thing to write, but I just feel like it. Â I can’t wait to be nothing and to feel nothing. Â But I will wait until 5pm. Â I have some work to do. Â I don’t know why I want to wait, but I do, and I will do what I want on my last day.
The things I would miss, if I could miss things after I’m gone, are: the smell of coffee, Â Miles Davis, Â Alex… Â I love her so much. Â She is the only reason I’ve lasted the last few years. Â If there were ever a reason to live, it’s her. Â The only reason my life was not a complete waste is that I got to make her feel something good now and then. Â When I see her, I see a life that makes the world better. Â It’s the sort of life I thought I might have, but I’ll never be that way. Â Her happiness is beautiful. Â If there’s an afterlife, Â I will come back as a ghost to make her bed every morning. Â I will wash her dishes and fold her clothes. Â It’s good that I won’t be able to miss things… I would miss the hell out of her.
Even so, I can’t stay. Â I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make this work. Â I never meant it to be like this. Â I was just born broken. Â It is no one’s fault but my own, and I finally know how to fix what I am. Â I won’t feel relief, but I won’t feel this either, and if I have to throw the baby out with the bath water, then so be it.
If you read this whole thing, thank you. Â I hope you have a good day.