*sigh* Why is everyone busy except me? And more importantly, why is everyone ok with being by themselves when I'm not?

I can only chuckle to myself when I realize that my blogs are having an effect upon the one person I thought was the most distant. It was a letter to explore what was on my mind, not to actually be a suicide letter. Of course I get melodramatic and the cries for attention are there. It is, as you so dutifully noted, because I am "fucked in the head." I want to cope but I can only deal with things in an angry, vengeful way right now. This last letter was a morbid scientific method. Look at the outcomes and test the hypothesis, without actually injuring myself. And the anger, well, it is what comes easiest to me. I think I'll try to take Andrea's help and see what they can offer.

If this is frustrating you too much, don't read it. It's really that easy. I write to get things out of my head and onto paper. It's much better out here than it is to remain in my head. Helps me not to dwell so much, and it's reflective. *yawn* Ok, gotta get ready for the rec center....

Good bye to you, good bye to everything that I knew I'm left alone one more time and, surprise, surprise, I'm not feeling down in the dumps. I'm feeling calm, rather. I wouldn't call it a good calm. I can only liken it to the way a cancer patient embraces death, realizing that it can only take him/her to a better place. Such is my calming.



I guess you could say that I've embraced death. I did actually plan out how I wanted to do it, and, should certain circumstances be reached, I would have done it last weekend. My mom was out of town, my brother was with her, and my dad doesn't ever bother me. The perfect situation, the perfect abuse of my solitary confinement.


Me: "It's so easy, I have it all planned, and was even going to do it this weekend."
Chris: "Killing yourself is not a valid option."



Oddly enough, that brought about one question. "Why? Why isn't it valid?" I don't know if I would have a hard hitting effect on anyone to "prevent" me from doing anything. Andrea would cry, but she would have cried if anyone died. I haven't seen her much anyway, so the out of sight out of mind thing comes into play. Thanks for offering the help, though. I'm sorry, but it felt good to blatantly tell you that you don't know me and will never understand me instead of fooling myself into thinking that you will. It felt good to stand up to you instead of cowering like a wimpering puppy. You can't fix me. No one can. No one wants to. This is what you have taught me. But I digress....


How would everyone else handle it? Amy would be devastated, despite how distant we've been. I think she said 7 words to me at her own wedding, not even enough time for me to say congratulations. Aaron would be happy and sad. Happy that he wouldn't have to put up with me "acting wierd" and that he was finally free of the friend who loved him. Why would he be sad? I think somewhere he does care, but doesn't allow himself to show it. I wouldn't have any impact on his life in the future anyhow. We're drifting apart, and he seems to be fine. Let him chase his on-again-off-again girlfriend for a time being. He's made it clear before that as long as he has her, no one else is necessary.

Now would the source of this question really care if I died? I'm not sure what Chris thinks. Maybe he'd be sad that someone he knew died. I'd say someone close to him, but I don't feel that I am close to him. He's very close to me, and after everything I've shared, we have a great bond...at least on my end. I must admit, and I don't know if I'd ever say this aloud, but he is sort of my role model. He's everything I wish I could be. He's funny, caring, thoughtful, very intelligent, and very creative and detached in ways that I can only dream. He's likeable, good looking, and I know deep inside, I won't ever attain the same kind of body, mental capacity, or outlook on life as he does. However, I don't know if anyone is close to Chris. And getting an answer from him is kind of hard to do, so this mystery will remain unsolved until he gets in touch with whatever he buried when his sister got sick.

Let's see...who's left? Kurt would be angry, I'm sure. He'd be mad at me for dying, for not calling him, for not doing much to help the situation. At the same time, I see Kurt accepting my death the quickest. Jamison? I don't know how he'd act. Again, hatred comes to mind. But this is Jamison we're talking about, so I don't know how long it'd last. I know at least he would make it a point to make it to my funeral. How would Morgan take it? He's the most unpredictable. At first I shared a lot with him. He could understand a lot of the confusion, the feelings, the self-loathing. Now he's out of reach. He has no sign that I'm feeling this bad, or have felt this badly.

My family would be devastated, I'm sure. But again, that would imply that they noticed within 24 hours. I'm not so sure they would until they needed something, like for me to move my car. *shrugs* Something like that....


Here is my reason for death. I would rather end everything, the happiness, the sadness, the questions, the answers, the self-doubt, the silver linings. Chris told me that my friends do care about me, but I still feel like no one has ever been there for me, which raises the feeling that I've had all along. I'm only cared for when I'm useful. I'm a tax cut for my parents while I'm at home, I'm something to do while Aaron is away from his girlfriend, or ex girlfriend, or whatever she happens to be at the time, I'm available while Chris doesn't have a girlfriend. I wasn't Kurt enough for Jamison, but just enough to keep him feeling scared while in public, and for Kurt...well...he seems to be fine without me. He seems to be fine without our old group. He's coped in ways I'm not sure I know how to. There are my answers, at least. They're my thoughts, the things that lay under the surface of me asking pathetically every day if someone is feeling social enough to rescue me from my own private hell. Not rescue so much as distract me from the uncomfortable mental anguish that I put myself through. Would I miss everything I would miss out on? My friends are going to go their separate ways from me, anyhow. I can tell, and it's in their answers to the questions I ask, the things that they say, and the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I DON'T WANT TO OUTGROW THE ONLY PEOPLE I'VE EVER LOVED IN MY LIFE.


No one truly understands this, how much I need them, how much I wish they needed me. How much I've never had what I have now. Friendship has been a bane and a blessing in my life. You people are truly nicer to me than necessary. But underneath it all, I'm afraid to lose again. I'm afraid to let you people go, to watch you go be happy without me. I don't want to reduce our lives to bi-monthy email messages and christmas cards and empty promises to see each other at a birthday party. Everyone I've mentioned above means more to me than they can understand. I can't say that enough. Even if you weren't there for me, I still love you, and the yearning to keep you in my life and to maybe pull 3 or 4 loving words from your mouth has kept me from giving in completely.


Jesus Christ, this is long. I figure I'll just keep on typing until someone pull up on the driveway, knocks on my window and "abducts" me into the night for one more little adventure that keeps me somewhat sane and feeling loved. But it's not coming tonight. I can hope, tho, can't I? I should really stop fooling myself. I know it's nothing personal, Chris, I really do. Part of me just won't accept it fully. I'm still waiting for those words that I want, or need, to pull from your mouth. Except, I don't want to do the pulling. I want you to say it of your own free will. I want everyone to say it of their own free will. But now I shouldn't have written that. I realize now that this reads like a suicide letter, and I'm begging for attention. Do what you will, as you always have. This is just a letter of thoughts. Whether I act on this will remain to be seen. It's both comforting and frightening to think that my heart rate doesn't even go up as I re-read this letter.