For Ray

death,

death didn't scare me anymore, I think that's what scared me the most.

they all knew I could and most importantly would end my life, or at least make an attempt.

the people who were supposed to care about me actually maybe did, that was the problem, they knew I couldn't handle their feelings. they knew I was falling apart and that they were the ones holding me up. they just chose to ignore it, they chose to ignore me.

so while I was slowly losing my grip on the last strands I was holding in my hand, they were nowhere to be found and I was left to catch myself.

feelings always terrified me, I always wanted to be the stable one for my friends, I succeeded in their eyes. they gave me credit all the time. but when they were turning their backs on me, I had trouble following my own advice.

maybe I wasn't meant to give that advice, seeing as I couldn't live up to it even if I tried.

I tried, I tried so hard.

and as the days turned harder and harder for me to endure, and it took more energy to wake up then to fall asleep, I knew it got bad again.

and maybe my brain was giving me all these signs, and maybe while I was too busy trying to take my own advice that I ignored them.

I ignored my own red flags.

So while I was having panic attacks in my room at least twice a day and my mother was downstairs trying to find ways to trigger me more as soon as I would come down. I guess that is on toxic family right?

I guess that is where the issues began right? oh no, it didnt. I loved my childhood, I hated it but I loved it.

so how did I become so fucked up? when did it make sense to me that hurting myself was going to be the only source of happiness I could reach.

it doesn't make sense to me, or my thoughts. I've spent so much time trying to figure myself out that I lost sense of everything around me.

I was drowning in my own thoughts and there was no one around to keep me from drowning.

but how could they? I can't blame them, when they didn't even know I was drowning in the first place.

I was looking in the mirror when I saw it. the calmth, the happiness, the realisation sitting perfectly on my face. I knew then that I could never be truly happy and content with myself in this life.

no one truly knew what I was feeling, I felt more isolated than I ever had. I felt like the people around me were moving forward while I was moving backwards with every new sunrise.

I remember smiling, at myself in the mirror before leaving the note I wrote on my bed. the same bed I just made for the first time since feeling like this.

maybe in another lifetime, I thought.

getting in the car I got only recently, I used every last cent on that damned thing. it's funny actually, why would I even bother buying it?

I don't know, I guess maybe I had some hope after all

but you know what they say about hope, it breeds internal missery. they were true about that.

I always loved the dark, when it turned dark outside I could breathe, every expectation people had of me, fell.

I could finally breathe.

until I couldn't anymore, and all those bottled up feelings became too much, they became too suffocating. they were tightening the grip I held on my own neck.

as the wind rushed trough my hair while the windows were down, I felt alive, I felt free. it was the best feeling I could have ever hoped for. all the happy memories I made with the ones I truly loved lingered in my head.

they made me feel, I don't know. happy, for I had felt truly happy in those shortlived moments. sad, for I had to miss them, and for not experiencing their whole lives, because that is what we always agreed with eachother. we would be there for all of us. I felt angry, at myself for letting these feelings destroy me, because they truly had.

when I found the place I saw in my head, I was mesmerized. people could never understand the beauty behind the pain like I did. I saw the beauty in that open field, I saw the beauty in that cliff.

I remember passing a stranger on the way there, he looked nice. I could have been friends with him.

maybe in another lifetime, I thought.

sitting on the edge of that cliff, was exciting. I had feared heights all my life. it was nice to feel this calm while looking down on the world. it felt small, like I could fit it in my hand or something.

I remember tracing the lines I had drawn on my arm, in my eyes they were a work of art.

I remember grabbing that knife again, this time cutting deeper. deeper than I ever had.

and as I was focussed on the beautiful color coming out of my arm, I didn't hear the stranger approaching.

he was nice, he asked me what I was doing and if he could sit with me for a little while. until he saw my arm. he started panicking and trying to stop the bleeding.

he didn't notice that I looked happy and content.

I told him it was okay, I told him it was my own choice.

I remember him hugging me, the sounds around me fading. I asked him if maybe he could just hold me, because I didn't want to die alone.

he calmed and told me he understood, he told me he wished things were different for me. he wished we would've met under different circumstances while a tear escaped his eye.

he had the most beautifull eyes, and his hair, so bright and silky. it was shining in the moonlight, and I couldn't help myself but to reach out and touch it.

I cried and told him it was okay,

and as he hugged me close one last time, I realised that he was the stranger that made me want to live.

but it was too late, but either way I was happy. finally happy.

and I told him,

maybe in another lifetime.

the end