I always thought I would live forever, or until I got tired of this world, and then I would decide to move on. I never thought it would come to this. The only person I ever loved has betrayed me more than I thought possible. I’ve been with her for nearly six years, and if you consider that I am twenty-two years old, that’s a very long time. I had sacrificed everything for her, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I told her this constantly, but she would still ask if I loved or even liked her fairly regularly. There have been dreams I had that she would do this to me, and I was sorry at the time that I became short with her because they affected me that way. In one, I screamed myself mute, and for the rest of the dream, I was stark raving mad.
I couldn’t scream myself silent in real life, I ran out of breath and I’ve been dehydrated since that night. I haven’t had anything but water in two days and I can’t seem to drink enough of that, but the thought of food makes me sick to my stomach. I thought of her in nearly everything I did, I can’t go do that, she’ll have nothing to do. If I go someplace fun, she’ll be mad or hurt that I didn’t ask her to come. I would look at non-necessary purchases in terms of whether or not she would like them. It may look as though she was using me, but there were years where the only person she had was me, and when I was unemployed for a while, she supported me. But no matter how many things I did for her, or how many times I told her I loved her, she ultimately didn’t believe me. She didn’t believe me until I found out what she had done, and walked away. I hate myself for wanting to go back to her, because that is wrong, and I cannot discuss it with anyone who doesn’t already know because the more people that know, the more pain I am caused. All my goals in life were aimed at making us happier, but now there is no us, and I have no goals. I have no aspirations, and I have no desire to live. I want to die, and beyond that, I want oblivion. I prayed for this. The thing that has stopped me from seriously contemplating it has been the thought of leaving my mother and father in the aftermath. They really do care about me, despite the lack of understanding they have for me. But then I considered that what is left of my life is mine to do with what I wish. Suicide is attempted more often by females, but it is the males who succeed more often. Women coincidentally prefer methods that may not be that reliable, or which can be undone if treated in time. But it’s us, the men, who stretch our necks our eat bullets. It takes the greatest of courage to put a gun to your head, because you know with absolute certainty that it will work, and that no one will be able to save you. It is not a cry for help, it is the real thing. I would cry for help, but there is no one or thing that could help me. It would take turning back time to prevent the knife planted secretly in my back, and the horrific twist after. But then, when I was younger, I had this dream that I was in a similar situation, that someone had done me such a great misdeed. I did have the ability to rewind time, as often as I liked, but no matter how many times I did it to give her a chance, she chose the same route. I only have one person to talk to, who has been in a loosely similar situation, but she doesn’t really know how bad it is, and what I’m thinking about. All I had is dust, and the wind is blowing it away. I want to go with it, and be scattered across the universe, never to be again.