The Suicide Note

Goodbye. There is no hello because we have said hello for far too many times which meant almost nothing. Too many times we awake and when our eyes met, we both know that we resent each other more and more. What is it that I see piercing me with so much hatred from behind those eyes? What does that soul that I thought I knew so well, now tells me that it no longer knows me, and even detests my pleading for your interest, for your love. People say that relationships such as ours are the most important, because we are one. It is not the same as all the flings we might have had, or all the friendships we have from our youth, for we are so much as one that no amount of time transcending can pull us apart. But long enough now, I feel that it has. Where have you been? I have been looking for you these recent months, and I cannot find you. I’ve been to all the places I was sure to find you there, but no you were not. I tried to find you amongst our family and friends, but they too have not known what had happened to you. Where are you, my love? Perhaps I have neglected you. In the rush of the bustle each day, I had grown to forget you bit by bit that I could not even realize the changes. Did you call out to me? Yes, you did. You called out to me in so many ways. You started by gently sounding out me of missed dates, bringing up fond memories of old, reminding me of the plans that we had dreamed but had yet to begin working on. Then they came a time when your call for attention became loud and angry, and our fights became intense. I fought you hard. I had work to do. I really didn’t have the time. And then there was silence. I was relieved. And it took me a long time that the silence was not of peace, but of death. Something died. We died. We didn’t need to stop breathing or to be have been torn to pieces in order to die. I can try to theorize how exactly and when exactly our lives were over, but today it does not matter anymore. You are dead and long gone without me knowing. But today I have come to know, and I know I too cannot live another day. I don’t know if I will see you after I depart from this world. I will not kid myself. I know I will not. Maybe after my life is cut off, I will know no more about anything. Maybe I will see the heavens open, and a heavenly host comes to take me to see you. Or maybe the ground will open up and I will see you reaching out to my feet, cursing me and dragging me down to the depths which I had sent you to. Or maybe this letter will hopefully have been written in vain, that I will see you bursting into this room and revive me from my hopeless state, and together we will live again. I wish I had never come to this stage where it becomes irreconciliable. I wish not the same for everyone else out there. I wish no one else loses themselves, and having to write such a note, like myself writing to you – who is me.   Lots of love and regret, Me

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