something i realized over the years is that despite wanting to kill myself, i don't actually wanna die. far from it actually. i want to live. i want to experience all the things i always wanted to do. i want to see the world. i want to look in the mirror one day and say "im happy i stayed". i want to get better. i want to live a life free from the shackles this mental illness has kept me in. but sometimes that darkness in my brain just overtakes that hope for a better future and all i'm left with is the thought that it will never get better.
“My 20s have been the loneliest era in my life. I am surrounded by people but not connecting with anyone. Everyone is living their own lives while I am still waiting for mine to start. I feel lost between what I should be feeling and how I actually feel.”
I've been slowly killing myself with poor dieting and no exercise for a while now, wanting my death to look natural in some way so it hurts less. Maybe it will happen soon
"Maybe we're not meant for each other. Maybe in another life, but not in this one."
Your smile was forced, fake, accommodating all the tears that slowly trickled down your face. The anguish of your words was masked with a false certainty that came from within your mind, far from your heart.
You felt trapped, cornered, immobilized by your false belief that you weren't worthy of happiness, you weren't worthy of being loved. A huge storm flooded your heart, consuming your emotions in a sea of despair and pain, the impulsiveness of your words shaking your soul.
Why did you say that?
Why did you let such vile words slip from your lips, thirsting for pain, yearning for the hurt you would cause him?
Why did you allow yourself this vulnerability?
"Why?"
Ranpo's question tore your heart, breaking your soul with the tremors in the syllable of the question, the pain trapped in its pronunciation.
He was about to cry.
"Why do you think that?"
It was difficult to understand Ranpo, his words coming out low to contain his pain, his timbre sounding rough from the heat that had formed so quickly in his throat.
"Can't you see that I belong to you?" he looked at you, red eyes holding back tears, the glow in them threatening to fade if you walked out of his life. "Can't you see that everything I got, everything I am!, is because you're by my side? Can't you see that?"
You were listening to Ranpo, his words, although strong and aggressive, sounded calm and precise, charged with the love that came from his soul, driven by the need to have you by his side. Ranpo spoke clearly, angered by your words, hurt by your thoughts, but determined, completely determined, to show you the reality, all the facts of your history.
"I love you. Now and then. Today and tomorrow. It doesn't matter when, or where. I love you. Purely and simply. I don't care about fates or gods. I don't care if our history is written somewhere or if we've lived it in other lifetimes. What matters to me now is the present. And in the present I love you and I want to be with you. Don't you understand that?"
A pause to take a deep breath, carefully, quickly. Ranpo tried to hold back his tears a little longer as he watched you break down a bit more in front of him, his statements sounding blunt when delivered in his typical calm, logical tone.
"How can you say we're not meant to be together when I need you? How can you say such a thing when I know I could have it all, I could be anything, but I'd be nothing if I didn't have you? Can't you see? That we were meant to be together?"
But he couldn't take it.
Ranpo approached you calmly, afraid to see you refuse his embrace, not knowing what reaction you would have. Ranpo held your hand gently, nervous about the outcome of this argument, unsure of what you were going to do next. Ranpo spoke softly again, confident in his feelings, secure in your actions.
"Our souls may not be made of the same dust. Our conscience may have been corrupted in other lives. But I'm sure, I know, that we were made for each other."
Ranpo brought his forehead to yours, the first tear finally falling, easing some of the anguish that screamed inside him. His eyes closed, silence settling between you for the briefest of moments.
A moment of peace.
A moment of clarity.
Ranpo gently brushed his nose against yours with each murmured word of his, his soft lips passing gracefully over yours, like a ghost greeting you, as if wanting to remove all the malice spoken by you moments before, wanting to exchange it for the hope now given by him. "I love you. For me, that's enough. And for you?"
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