I'd always seen it as irrational too want to die over a broken heart, but I understand now.
A few years ago I wanted to die because I thought I'd never find love. I've loved and I've lost now, destroyed by my own hand. And it's torn me apart.
She lit up my life in the darkest of times.
Heading out for another reckless night of binge drinking and a potential one night stand. I went too one of the locals resteraunts/bars, that's where I met her for the first time. She had just recently moved to the area and had just recently started working here. I was in love with her instantly, and I later found out that she was too. She was having a couple drinks after her shift and we hit it off immediately. Funny, intelligent, drop dead gorgeous. She was the one for me, and I was the one for her.
It took me a while too ask her out, but we were basically a couple by then. My cool, calm laid back persona became real-life as I grew into the front that I had always showed to hide my inner pain. She goddamn saved me from myself.
What followed was heaven, I was living the dream. We became best friends and did everything together. She turned too me one night and asked me never too hurt her, never too leave her. I assured her, and meant every fucking word of it.
No matter what we were doing we were always having fun together, and even if we were out with our friends it may aswell just been me and her, we were inseparable.
We went on holidays, weekends away, various trips too various places and regular dinner and movie dates, I was happier than I ever had been, happier than I ever thought I could be. Talks of moving in together eventually became a reality as her parents prepared too move away. It was very sudden and unexpected, I wasn't quite ready for it yet. She stayed here too be with me, and I broke her fucking heart.
I don't know exactly when I started too fall apart, it happened slowly. So many things were overwhelming me and stressing me out. And for what ever reason I kept it all to myself. I slowly began too push her away as I started too become depressed again, she was constantly seeking assurance that I still loved her, and I did. It took me far too long too realise that I wasn't doing enough too show her what she meant too me anymore.
I became lazy and distant, she tried everything for me but I scraped along on the bare minimum. I'd cry on the sofa at night wondering what was wrong with me, while she was crying in bed worrying about me. I still didn't say anything and I don't know why. There was a brief period where I picked myself up and was myself again, but I quickly crashed and burned out again. I started staying at my parents house when I was feeling particularly down, suicidal thoughts started too creep in. And I started too convince myself that I wasn't good enough anymore, that she would be better off without me.
After one particularly night at my parents crying and contemplating death, I walked into our place the next day and broke her heart. I was living my life long dream, and I had turned it into a nightmare. She begged me too stay and I knew I wanted too, but I just couldn't find the inner strength too reach out and tell her how I was feeling about myself. I don't even know exactly why I was putting myself down so much, but I was crumbling.
In the days that followed we still told each other we loved each other. I still went too see her too make sure she was okay. But by the time I fully realised what I was doing it was too late. I went back a begged for forgiveness. She told me she still loved me and wounds easily take me back in, but I had hurt her and she needed space and time too think. She still held a candle too my heart but you can't keep a flame burning in the storm. And whatever was left, a full on mental breakdown was about too burn it all too the ground.
It started slowly, but the more I got knocked back the deeper I fell. I tried so hard, but I was saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. I was in no fit state of mind. I knew I should have been giving her space but I just couldn't stop myself. I was achieving not other than pushing her further away. There were times where I thought I was making progress but that was just hopeless delusion. Christmas came and went, I love Christmas but I was pleased too see it go. It was awful. I spent new years eve crying on my own at midnight.
Then came an idea, we had spent Christmas apart. Why not buy her a shit load of presents and write her a meaningful letter and give her a belated Christmas? That has too work? I never got too find out.
I dropped off the presents at was once our house while she was at work. I was excited, but incredibly nervous. So I went for a drink, and a few more, and a few more. Total blackout drunk. I woke up the next morning with a hangover from hell and a feeling of absolute dread. I knew I had done something. A quick message too her and I found out I had turned up at her work, caused a scene, fucked off for abit. Then turned up at her house in absolute hysterics. I've never been a crazy person, and I was well and truly ashamed with myself. In her eyes I was done, and I couldn't blame her.
It was this point I knew, I would be dead soon. I've tried too pick myself up but I just can't do it. I just can't go on without her, but I can't expect her too save me again, she doesn't know I'm suicidal. She never did.
I've become obsessed with dates. Counting the days weeks and months since the day I walked out, or since certain days we spent together. I had never be a crier, not even as a baby. I can't remember the last time I've went a day without crying. I'm literally on my knees every night praying that she will reach out too me, but I know she won't. And the urge too reach out too her is always there, but I know I can't I've tried too many times. And people just seem too love reminding me how much I've fucked up, I agree, but it fucking hurts like hell.
The heartache cuts deeper everyday. The guilt and the shame is crippling. My mind slips further into the gutter with each passing day. Depression, anxiety, paranoia, regret, heartache, guilt, shame and whatever else. It's agonizing, it's too much and it all brings on one thing. Absolute soul crushing sadness.
I just want the sadness too go away.
I've tried too make peace with myself. And as I've accepted that I want too die, I've began too make peace, a little bit anyway. I'm in a state of disbelief that I actually tried too walk away from the best thing that ever happened too me, the girl of my dreams, the girl who saved me. I'm disgusted at my self, I hate myself.
Everything is ready now, I have my sn and antiemetics. My tagamet has just came earlier than expected. My letters are done and instructions are in place. I can go when I'm ready, which has too be soon. I know a day will come where she finds a new boyfriend, she won't have a problem as I know she has men falling at her feet. I'm not angry at her, she does seem happier now after all I've done. But I don't want too be pushed over the edge and go out in anger.
Very soon will come a time where I come out my hiding place. Embrace the thoughts that destroyed my life. Step out into the storm and embrace the darkness, forever.
TLDR: Was living the dream, fucked it up and fucked myself up. Dead (soon).
