Disclaimer: The writer of this blog article is safe and receiving professional guidance.
i am writing this letter in the hope that you will get it after i leave. this place and this moment. i am writing in the hope that i will be able to make you understand why i did what i did and you’d be left with nothing but understanding when you read this.
so tonight, i am going to kill myself. i am going to take the knife and stab me in the heart and bleed myself out to stop living. you can’t come to save me cause it would be too late. so let me kill myself.
but when the dawn comes tomorrow you will see me living again. no, i am not resurrected. cause i’d never really die fully.
maybe i should rephrase my words. i am going to kill a part of myself tonight. the part that is sick at this very moment, and has been sick for a long time now. the part that is suffering. it’s in indescribable pain. unfathomable aching. there’s no cure for it. no remedy. no therapy.
the only way to make it better is to kill it. stop the eternal suffering. the fight of living through another day. fulfilling another commitment.
i am not a murderer. the killing itself is a blessing. it’s the same as when you see someone in life support and you know, everyone knows that they are in borrowed time. everyone knows they are suffering and it’s for the best to take off the life support and let them pass away. for peace.
but like a mother won’t let her child go like that; or a lover denying to remove the support until last moment –
i too tried to hold onto this part. i tried to cure it. make it feel better. by different ways. trying different methods. i can see now, it has reached the end. the cancer has spread. the area is compromised.
so i will kill it. to let it pass to the afterlife. to find peace. in the same time, i am wondering how long until these little parts takes away the whole me?
In case you feel or ever felt like you could relate to this piece, please reach out for professional help.
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