It was lightly snowing.
It was midnight.
I made this bed, and was ready to sleep in it with no complaints. In fact, I was happy and ready to leave.
I had a few options, and few ideas.
To get so drunk, and to be so intoxicated, that I would walk to the local beer store that all of the college kids go to and spend my last.
And then I would go to the wine spirits and double up on alcohol – finally jumping off of the bridge, or cutting my wrists.
I was emotionally set and ready.
I was not afraid.
I was sad because I felt misunderstood, and even miserable, tired of living.
I felt trapped in my mind.
I thought of how easier it would be to just buy a gun, and shoot my heart. I imagine it wouldn’t take but only 5 minutes to finally die. But I knew no one.
I wanted the easiest way out, the shortest route.
“That is such a weak mindset! You are weak. Why would you want to die when you have so much to live for?”
I smile, and think – you don’t know the half!
But I examined myself, is it weak after all?
Is life harsher, more painful than death?
Suicide would not cure anything.
Just like drugs wouldn’t either.
Suicidal thoughts were covering my psyche.
I just wanted out!
I don’t give a fuck about what weak, strong, whatever.
Just let me off of this ride. I had enough…