Leaving me.

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…

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