anchored_astronaut
Member
- Nov 25, 2019
- 33
There are three reasons I have yet to catch the bus.
One of these reasons is just that I'm scared. I find the idea of eternal oblivion just as terrifying as I find it comforting. So I'm very much undecided as to whether or not I will end my life. I find my existence unappealing, but at least it's familiar, and in that way the beating of my heart offers me a more fragile comfort than I anticipate not existing would, but without the fear factor, and so I've stuck with it so far.
I guess you could say I'm die-curious (haha. Pretend I'm funny. Humor me.)
The other two reasons are the people who would miss me: my brother, and a dear friend who I have, for three years, gotten to know entirely though instant messages and, eventually, phone calls. Despite the physical distance between us and the emotional distance such impersonal means of communication ought to have awarded us, we developed mutual romantic feelings that, unfortunately, neither of us have any way of acting upon.
Tonight, as I have on many recent nights, I got a bit too open about my unhappiness while talking with him.
He told me, in many more and somewhat different words, that he can no longer handle listening to me talk that way. Then that he didn't believe me when I promised I would stop. And then that even if I could, he doesn't want to maintain a relationship in which either party has to hide. And finally that he doesn't know whether or not he will remain a part of my life.
My days are already so empty even with his companionship.
I don't know if I remember how to live without him, or if I care to.
I'm both frightened of and delighted by the thought that realizing I'm more trouble than I'm worth could be a trend that takes off, and then I'd have nobody to worry about hurting, and I could be free.
But the part of me that's still scared to die is terrified by the prospect of having no one to hold me back.
Even just one less pair of hands could be enough for me to let go.
Deepest thanks to anyone who read this far. I'm not sure exactly why I want to tell this story, but I do, and so I appreciate anyone who was willing to hear it.
It's a messed up little trick how feelings that make one feel so alone can lead to one actually being alone.
One of these reasons is just that I'm scared. I find the idea of eternal oblivion just as terrifying as I find it comforting. So I'm very much undecided as to whether or not I will end my life. I find my existence unappealing, but at least it's familiar, and in that way the beating of my heart offers me a more fragile comfort than I anticipate not existing would, but without the fear factor, and so I've stuck with it so far.
I guess you could say I'm die-curious (haha. Pretend I'm funny. Humor me.)
The other two reasons are the people who would miss me: my brother, and a dear friend who I have, for three years, gotten to know entirely though instant messages and, eventually, phone calls. Despite the physical distance between us and the emotional distance such impersonal means of communication ought to have awarded us, we developed mutual romantic feelings that, unfortunately, neither of us have any way of acting upon.
Tonight, as I have on many recent nights, I got a bit too open about my unhappiness while talking with him.
He told me, in many more and somewhat different words, that he can no longer handle listening to me talk that way. Then that he didn't believe me when I promised I would stop. And then that even if I could, he doesn't want to maintain a relationship in which either party has to hide. And finally that he doesn't know whether or not he will remain a part of my life.
My days are already so empty even with his companionship.
I don't know if I remember how to live without him, or if I care to.
I'm both frightened of and delighted by the thought that realizing I'm more trouble than I'm worth could be a trend that takes off, and then I'd have nobody to worry about hurting, and I could be free.
But the part of me that's still scared to die is terrified by the prospect of having no one to hold me back.
Even just one less pair of hands could be enough for me to let go.
Deepest thanks to anyone who read this far. I'm not sure exactly why I want to tell this story, but I do, and so I appreciate anyone who was willing to hear it.
It's a messed up little trick how feelings that make one feel so alone can lead to one actually being alone.