As a child I didn't understand who or what I was, but what I did know was that life was precious. I grew up with a basic understanding of simple emotions: joy, sadness, anger, and pain. Not surprisingly, from the beginning I knew that all I wanted in life was to be happy, but what I could not understand was that happiness is simply temporary. If I had understood that concept then I would not be sure if I would have chased those small bursts of joy. Maybe if I understood that idea I wouldn’t have questioned everything I have ever done in life. Maybe if I understood that idea I wouldn’t be ready to leave this world.
Questioning my past and doubting myself lead me to give up. My only salvation was the fact that even if happiness is only temporary, memories are not. To look back at the happiest points in your life, and feeling the warmth of that moment is just so invigorating. Yet at the same time those same joyful memories have a certain sadness to them. It produces a burning desire to recreate those same feelings you once had, but if you cannot capture that moment as you had once experienced it then heartache will ensue. Not the type of heartache caused by the love of another, but the type of heartache caused by the loss of who you are.
Once I lost myself everything began to slip away. My confidence, motivation, and even my emotional stability. My only friend was the darkness that accompanied me every night: ironically, giving me the strength to look for a permanent solution. Every night I looked for an answer to an impossible question. Is it possible to replicate feelings of joy and ecstasy from the best days if your life?
To my inevitable disappointment I quickly found out that you can’t. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t replicate those moments. IT WAS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. Although many people would say that there was a simple solution to this little predicament. Just create new memories. Go out and enjoy the world. Sounds simple, right? Wrong. Terribly fucking wrong.
Hope was and is all but gone. What’s the point of living if there is no happy ending?
To me there was no point. Along with the deprivation of joy in my life, I had no one to share it with either. There was and is nothing holding me back as I look down into what will hopefully end my pitiful existence.
To the reader of my last words I hope your life is less pathetic and worthless than mine, but if it isn’t well I’m sorry.
I have no more words to share with the rest of the world.
Goodbye.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
