The Night before I killed myself/The morning after I killed myself
Posted: Fri Dec 11, 2020 12:43 pm
The night before I killed myself was scary.
The night before I killed myself was in December, of course. The joy eclipsed my sadness. The lights eclipsed the big dark hole inside my chest. But the cold... the cold spoke entirely about my heart.
The night before I killed myself, I had to face who I was and who I am one more time. And then I had to let everything go. To set myself free. From the pain, the hurt, the emptiness, frustration, fear, from the past, the memories. Free from my own self.
The night before I killed myself was magical. I screamed in silence. Everything that once was so loud today remained mute.
The night before I killed myself, I wanted to say goodbye, but I realised I have no one to say goodbye to.
The night before I killed myself, I listened to Taylor Swift’s new song “Evermore”. I too had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore.
The night before I killed myself I tried to convince me that I won’t be lost forever. That my shattered heart will heal. I failed, not because I didn’t have faith that even my heart can be healed, but because I didn’t want to give me a chance to see what that feels like.
The night before I killed myself, I realised that I am not a coward. Giving up does not imply that.
The night before I killed myself, loneliness hurt less. And at the same time... it hurt the most.
The night before I killed myself, I looked at the wall full of pictures in my room. Memories of the last four years. And my tears painfully smiled. Because I knew I wasn’t truly happy in any of them.
The night before I killed myself, I had a last conversation with God. He didn’t answer.
The night before I killed myself, my demons admitted that they’ve missed me. I smiled but the thought of burning forever turned me into stone.
The night before I killed myself, I screamed for help. I screamed for a shoulder to cry on. I screamed for a miracle. I begged for forgiveness.
The night before I killed myself, there was only dark in my room. I could’ve just turn the lights on, but I didn’t pay the bills.
The night before I killed myself, my past consumed me one last time. Eaten by darkness, surrounded by all the moments I kept asking myself where did I go wrong.
The night before I killed myself, I counted all the shattered and broken pieces of my heart. 7.665 pieces. For every single day I lived trying to understand why, but couldn’t.
The night before I killed myself my eyes shined because of all these damn tears. The world I saw was blurry. Forever a question mark.
The night before I killed myself, I forgot who I was and who I tried to be. I lost sight of everything. I lost myself in stars, in the moon, in other’s joy and in you.
The morning after I killed myself was as scary as it could be.
The morning after I killed myself was in December. Christmas day. For the first time I could sense the joy. For the first time the lights let me speechless. And the cold... it couldn’t reach me. I was wearing gloves.
The morning after I killed myself, I was free from the person I was yesterday. From the pain, the hurt, the emptiness, frustration, fear and any other baggage of my past that was too heavy. I began to understand who I want to be a little more.
The morning after I killed myself was magical. I smiled in silence because everything that once was so loud now doesn’t exist anymore. I closed that door forever.
The morning after I killed myself, I wanted to say hello. I looked upon my reflection and I say the new me starring back. I whispered... “hello, new and old friend”.
The morning after I killed myself, I listened to Taylor Swift’s new song “Evermore”. I too had a feeling so peculiar that this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.
The morning after I killed myself, i found myself and I understood that I deserve to be healed too.
The morning after I killed myself, I became stronger than I was before because I had the courage to give up. To stop trying to understand, to stop my memories from crushing me, to let every single scar heal instead of wearing it like a haunted treasure I could not get rid of.
The morning after I killed myself, I could see those around me. And in that moment I understood that I was never alone. I understood that I am loved. I am heard. I am real, not just a ghost.
The morning after I killed myself, I looked at the empty walls in my room. I felt ready to fill them with new pictures. New chapters of my life in which I now I won’t always be happy, but at least I will try.
The morning after I killed myself, I prayed for the first time. Still being alive will always be God’s loudest and most powerful answer.
The morning after I killed myself, my guardian angel hugged me. I smiled and that warm feeling destroyed the stone my heart was.
The morning after I killed myself the sun was so bright that I didn’t even have to turn the lights on.
The morning after I killed myself my past was a closed door. Locked. Because I will never ask myself ever again where did I go wrong. Instead, I will look up and thank God for everything I have. Things that I wouldn’t probably have if it weren’t for those so-called mistakes.
The morning after I killed myself, my eyes shined because I smiled. The world I see is still blurry, but that is ok. Forever a semicolon.
The morning after I killed myself I let go of the old me. I was thrilled because now I get to be who I am meant to be. I found myself in You, God.
The night before I killed myself was in December, of course. The joy eclipsed my sadness. The lights eclipsed the big dark hole inside my chest. But the cold... the cold spoke entirely about my heart.
The night before I killed myself, I had to face who I was and who I am one more time. And then I had to let everything go. To set myself free. From the pain, the hurt, the emptiness, frustration, fear, from the past, the memories. Free from my own self.
The night before I killed myself was magical. I screamed in silence. Everything that once was so loud today remained mute.
The night before I killed myself, I wanted to say goodbye, but I realised I have no one to say goodbye to.
The night before I killed myself, I listened to Taylor Swift’s new song “Evermore”. I too had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore.
The night before I killed myself I tried to convince me that I won’t be lost forever. That my shattered heart will heal. I failed, not because I didn’t have faith that even my heart can be healed, but because I didn’t want to give me a chance to see what that feels like.
The night before I killed myself, I realised that I am not a coward. Giving up does not imply that.
The night before I killed myself, loneliness hurt less. And at the same time... it hurt the most.
The night before I killed myself, I looked at the wall full of pictures in my room. Memories of the last four years. And my tears painfully smiled. Because I knew I wasn’t truly happy in any of them.
The night before I killed myself, I had a last conversation with God. He didn’t answer.
The night before I killed myself, my demons admitted that they’ve missed me. I smiled but the thought of burning forever turned me into stone.
The night before I killed myself, I screamed for help. I screamed for a shoulder to cry on. I screamed for a miracle. I begged for forgiveness.
The night before I killed myself, there was only dark in my room. I could’ve just turn the lights on, but I didn’t pay the bills.
The night before I killed myself, my past consumed me one last time. Eaten by darkness, surrounded by all the moments I kept asking myself where did I go wrong.
The night before I killed myself, I counted all the shattered and broken pieces of my heart. 7.665 pieces. For every single day I lived trying to understand why, but couldn’t.
The night before I killed myself my eyes shined because of all these damn tears. The world I saw was blurry. Forever a question mark.
The night before I killed myself, I forgot who I was and who I tried to be. I lost sight of everything. I lost myself in stars, in the moon, in other’s joy and in you.
The morning after I killed myself was as scary as it could be.
The morning after I killed myself was in December. Christmas day. For the first time I could sense the joy. For the first time the lights let me speechless. And the cold... it couldn’t reach me. I was wearing gloves.
The morning after I killed myself, I was free from the person I was yesterday. From the pain, the hurt, the emptiness, frustration, fear and any other baggage of my past that was too heavy. I began to understand who I want to be a little more.
The morning after I killed myself was magical. I smiled in silence because everything that once was so loud now doesn’t exist anymore. I closed that door forever.
The morning after I killed myself, I wanted to say hello. I looked upon my reflection and I say the new me starring back. I whispered... “hello, new and old friend”.
The morning after I killed myself, I listened to Taylor Swift’s new song “Evermore”. I too had a feeling so peculiar that this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.
The morning after I killed myself, i found myself and I understood that I deserve to be healed too.
The morning after I killed myself, I became stronger than I was before because I had the courage to give up. To stop trying to understand, to stop my memories from crushing me, to let every single scar heal instead of wearing it like a haunted treasure I could not get rid of.
The morning after I killed myself, I could see those around me. And in that moment I understood that I was never alone. I understood that I am loved. I am heard. I am real, not just a ghost.
The morning after I killed myself, I looked at the empty walls in my room. I felt ready to fill them with new pictures. New chapters of my life in which I now I won’t always be happy, but at least I will try.
The morning after I killed myself, I prayed for the first time. Still being alive will always be God’s loudest and most powerful answer.
The morning after I killed myself, my guardian angel hugged me. I smiled and that warm feeling destroyed the stone my heart was.
The morning after I killed myself the sun was so bright that I didn’t even have to turn the lights on.
The morning after I killed myself my past was a closed door. Locked. Because I will never ask myself ever again where did I go wrong. Instead, I will look up and thank God for everything I have. Things that I wouldn’t probably have if it weren’t for those so-called mistakes.
The morning after I killed myself, my eyes shined because I smiled. The world I see is still blurry, but that is ok. Forever a semicolon.
The morning after I killed myself I let go of the old me. I was thrilled because now I get to be who I am meant to be. I found myself in You, God.