Maybe someone will finally love me if I’m dying, or even pretend enough so I have felt loved at some point in my life before I die. Maybe not, maybe I’m just that terrible, who knows. Maybe someone will cry and miss me instead of smile and laugh, and celebrate that I’m finally gone.

I’m tired of the pain, tired of feeling depressed all the time, I’m fucking tired of existing. If it feels so hard to fucking live why should I? There’s no point in fucking struggling if my dying wouldn’t hurt a single soul. I have no one, and probably never will. I’m just a pathetic piece of meat that people fucking do what they want to and abandon. I’m so fucking tired of it.

Maybe I will finally do it, I have enough pills. Maybe I’ll finally mean something to someone if I die, maybe someone will care. It doesn’t even matter at that point, I’ll be dead