I sat down, and I wrote; as I did every night. Except this night was slightly different. Tonight would be my last.
I’m so done with being the second choice. I’m tired of always wanting to be something I’m not. People joke and laugh; I’m sick of their laughter. They’re laughing at me. Even if they don’t know it, they are. They know I’ll end up alone.
They know I’ll die alone. Might as well speed up the process and just get it done now. It’s tiring knowing there’s nothing I can do to change it. It’s all hopeless. I’m tired of being tired.
Luckily, it will all be over soon. In a couple of minutes, all I’ll feel is the sweet numbness of nothing. I won’t have to worry about being socially accepted.
I won’t have to worry about making a fool out of myself. I won’t have to worry about rejection. Whether I do it now or wait, I’ll still be alone. There’s nothing for me to lose.
I took a deep breath. It’s a little odd to think that it will actually be over. No more questions. No more bullies. No more “friends”. A little relieving to be honest.
I wasn’t wanted anyways, no matter how much they lied to me about it. It almost feels like I’m just doing everybody a favor. Yeah, a favor. What I’m doing isn’t bad. It’s helping other people.
They won’t have to deal with me anymore. I don’t have to deal with myself anymore.
With that thought, I finished writing the letter. I looked back over at my work. This will be the last thing anybody ever hears from me, so I want it to look okay.
I read through what I wrote one last time, letting it all sink in. I blacked out a bit while writing, so I’m not completely sure what’s all on here.
I mentioned my mom, my dad, my little sister, and how I loved them all so much. Whether the feeling was mutual or not, it´s still true.
I accidentally started writing about my old friend Jerry. We hadn’t talked in forever, so I’m not sure why he came up.
Either way, it was done. I placed the letter neatly onto the desk near my window.
There’s no need to change anything because I’ll be gone before they get to see it anyways. If they still want to judge me at that point they can do it while they bury me. But that’s only if they find it worth their time to do so.
It was finally time. I walked over to the window and stepped out onto the small balcony. It´s pretty handy that we live on the fourteenth floor.
I thought about everything as I walked to the railing. I took a look out at the city. It was strangely beautiful from up here.
You could barely tell what chaotic hell occurs on the ground. It’s a cruel, cruel world. It doesn’t seem to be getting better anytime soon either.
I stepped up to the rail and took one last, deep breath.