Life
I know I only write here when bad things happen, when I feel sad or annoyed. I don't do it because I want to. I don't even write it here to be read. I just write here because I have no other choice.
Today was a very important day for me. Important because I don't think I will easily forget how bad I felt today. I have a microbiology examination tomorrow. I can't concentrate. I never wanted to die so much as I do today. As I did all day. I won't even write about my thoughts. Talking about suicide is a dangerous matter. But I wish this would all end now. That I would close my eyes to sleep and never wake up. I wish I could stop existing, stop being, stop.
I came home today from the dentist and, judging on the silence, the house was empty. I couldn't get her out of my mind. It hurt so much to know that I was never more than a disappointment to her. It hurt that she spent all this time without talking to me, without trying to talk to me. It hurt that she didn't even take the time to reply, to lie even. She never said 'go away', she never said 'no'. In fact, some of the last words I heard from her mouth were 'I love you'.
It was only when my mother rushed into the bathroom and took the knife from my hands that I realised that, afterall, I was not alone. I looked at her face and I would lie if I said I understood the terror in her face, the tears that were battling to run out of her eyes. I just looked at her and I was unable to understand why all that fury, all that horror. I was so unimportant to me.
But now, that I lie here, motionless on my bed. I understand her. I understand that giving my life for her would be a selfish thing to do, even though I wanted it from the bottom of my selfless heart. There is so much I can still do... Yes, it would be selfish to give my life for her.
Would I have done it? Probably not. Probably I wouldn't have had the courage. Probably I wouldn't bare the pain of the cut. But I needed to be there, standing in front of the mirror, telling myself that I was in control of my life.
Today was a very important day for me. Important because I don't think I will easily forget how bad I felt today. I have a microbiology examination tomorrow. I can't concentrate. I never wanted to die so much as I do today. As I did all day. I won't even write about my thoughts. Talking about suicide is a dangerous matter. But I wish this would all end now. That I would close my eyes to sleep and never wake up. I wish I could stop existing, stop being, stop.
I came home today from the dentist and, judging on the silence, the house was empty. I couldn't get her out of my mind. It hurt so much to know that I was never more than a disappointment to her. It hurt that she spent all this time without talking to me, without trying to talk to me. It hurt that she didn't even take the time to reply, to lie even. She never said 'go away', she never said 'no'. In fact, some of the last words I heard from her mouth were 'I love you'.
It was only when my mother rushed into the bathroom and took the knife from my hands that I realised that, afterall, I was not alone. I looked at her face and I would lie if I said I understood the terror in her face, the tears that were battling to run out of her eyes. I just looked at her and I was unable to understand why all that fury, all that horror. I was so unimportant to me.
But now, that I lie here, motionless on my bed. I understand her. I understand that giving my life for her would be a selfish thing to do, even though I wanted it from the bottom of my selfless heart. There is so much I can still do... Yes, it would be selfish to give my life for her.
Would I have done it? Probably not. Probably I wouldn't have had the courage. Probably I wouldn't bare the pain of the cut. But I needed to be there, standing in front of the mirror, telling myself that I was in control of my life.