The suicidal thoughts started eating me alive. And when I say eating me alive, I meant it. I just gave up on everything and I didn't want to talk, or listen, or anything at all. And I most certainly didn't want to talk to someone who would ignore me or send short answers or say she couldn't hang out because she was at another friends house. It made me sick to my stomach, really. I woke up that morning, it was a Monday, and I already knew in my mind that on Wednesday I was going to kill myself. I had decided. But today was going to be busy. I had lessons and tutoring and I had to write my note and pick out a song for the funeral. So, as soon as my feet hit the floor, I sent 'bye' to Abigail. I was drowsy and didn't think it through. I assumed she would get it that I was going to be busy that day. Plus I thought I'd get home pretty soon. But we went out to eat lunch and when we got back the door was wide open.
Which meant my dog Sammy was no where to be found.
The rest of the day was spent looking for him. And I never saw the 'why bye?' Flash on the screen.
On Tuesday I knew I had to make plans. Killing yourself actually takes a whole lot of work. I didn't answer that day either. Why would I? I would be gone soon. She didn't leave any other messages. I didn't want her attention, I was going to do it, if I talked to her I might accidentally say what I was going to do.
Wednesday came around. I picked out a song for the funeral. It was Asleep by The Smiths. I was pleased with that choice.. It seemed like the perfect one. I know it's messed up for someone to pick out a song for a funeral like most would about picking out a dress, but I was just done. Done with everything. Everyone. Everything seemed so pointless.
I did pick a dress for it though. It was just this simple black one. And it would do. I had written out my note. It seemed better than a video, really. I found some rope. I knew how to do the knot.
My parents left me home alone and I sat there staring at the rope hanging from the ceiling until my parents came home again. I hid the letter and the rope before they came up. And that's why I didn't do it.
Because I just looked at it.
That night I cried and listened to old sad songs and I cut my wrists, hoping to go too deep. But I didn't.
Sometimes I'm glad I didn't do it. Sometimes I'm not.
Me: hi-im so sorry I didn't answer
Abigail: It's okay, can I ask why u didn't?
Me: it was a tough week.
And that was all I said.
Only a few days later was when it happened.
(The next chapter that I am going to write is going to be really difficult.. More difficult then the happy memories, because this is the reason why the happy memories hurt so much. So.. The next chapter pretty much leads us up to present day, and I'll be continuing there. If you're reading this, thank you so much for everything. Seriously. You guys are so amazing.)