the art of letting go

It's truly difficult. I have said goodbye to many things throughout my life, but nothing has ever been this tough on me. I'm doubting everything. I can't accept the fact that the choice you made was not me. I can't accept the fact that I let you go. That I told you to go. I can't for the life of the figure out why this ended like it did. It bothers me. To endless extents. I don't want to be the vague minded, but I guess I am. Or maybe I just can't make up my mind. Heck, everybody knows I can't make up my mind.

On one hand I really don't want to hurt him. Some days I feel like, what we have going on right now is the best thing ever, but on other days I just feel like I should've said no from the beginning. Sat my foot down, stayed with him. I guess there's more of those days, than the good. I don't know. I'm so unstable right now. I can't do it, I keep thinking. I can't have a relationship with him because I'm stupid and I'm an emotional wreck and I can't figure out what is the best to do. Some days I hope he will be so disappointed when he meets me that he will stop talking to me. Some days I hope everything will be fine and we will be able to talk for hours on end.

In between those

I just

want to disappear.

I saw a post on tumblr some days ago. 'If there was a pill that could kill you instantly, with no pain, would you take it?'
It triggered it all. All the suicidal thoughts that had been lurking in the back of my head for months. All the depression I had stuffed away in the back of my mind, all the sad and the sorrow I had tried to hide. The dysphoria, the insecurity, the pain. It welled up in me and I felt terrible. I can't remember exactly how long, but I remember crying my eyes out. Silently. Till they were all red and puffy. They were hurting. My throat was dry. I remember just sitting there, by my desk, bawling for who knows how long.

The truth is

if I was brave enough

I would do it.

I hate living, I despise it. There's so much trouble and I'm too fragile. My mind is a wreck. I can't think. I can't love. I can't live.
I'm not living.
I'm breathing, and I wake up in the morning, but I'm not living. I talk to people but they don't see me and I don't see them. They're just silhouettes and I'm just a shell of what once was a human being.
I'm so fucked up.
I hate myself.

I know this wont work. It's not that I have set my mind for it to not work, I just know it wont. I'm not brave enough. I can't do this. I can't. Not right now. I'm.. I just can't right now.

I know he's reading this. And I somehow hope he will realise what he has gotten himself into. What a terrible mess. And I hope, somehow, that he will stop this... somewhere... even if there's something screaming at me to not feel that way.. I.. feel like.. this should end.. soon..

Fucking fucked up shit..