What about the person that has to find your body, surrounded by blood?
What about the terror and pain that they’ll have to remember for the rest of their lives?
What about them having to feel guilty for being “too late” every day of their lives?
What about them holding your body and screaming in agony as they can’t even get the strength to leave you to get a phone to call for help?
What about the depression that you’ll leave them in?
What about them having to walk away, their clothes soaked in your blood and their tears?
What about them yelling at your paralytic body “Please live! I love you! I need you! Please.”?
What about all the tears you’ll cause people that you aren’t even aware of?

Life is so fragile, and we fight for it every day —even against our own hands.
When you kill yourself, you’re also becoming a muderer.
You’re killing pieces of the people who love you.
You’re tearing holes into their hearts that can’t even seal with time.
So what about them?

i know during that period of time,
whenever i said about ending my life,
i know her heart skipped a beat.
i know she very much wants to stop my thought, but she cant.
i know she wants to help me, but at the same time, felt helpless.
i know i'm threatening her.
i know it all.



i'm sorry.