I’m sorry.
To everyone who believed in me, I apologize profusely.
You didn’t deserve seeing me in turmoil. You didn’t deserve to be affected by my negativity. It hurt me even more, knowing what I put you through. The way you looked at me—afraid, helpless, hopeless. The way I stared back into your eyes, defeated.
Don’t be angry because this was nothing personal. Know that I’m gone because I chose to do so. For once, I finished something I started. For once I was brave enough to go through with something risky and dangerous.
Don’t be disappointed. I didn’t give up, no, on the contrary all I ever wanted was a reason to persevere. All I ever wanted was to really live, but I didn’t know how.
All of you always did (and still do) such an excellent job at living, and I was happy for every one of you. Your lit up, elated smiling faces made me smile, although it broke my heart all at once. I felt bad and guilty because you loved me. I tried numerous times to push you away, to make you un-love me so I could take the plunge quicker. My attempts always failed. Your compassion pained me as much as it consoled me. I often wished that having you in my life, and all the other privileges I had was enough, but I could never find what I was looking for. Perhaps it didn’t even exist.
I believe in a higher entity, but I don’t think he likes me too much. I think he often looks down and cringes, embarrassed that he moulded a mistake. Maybe I’m in hell right now, but you all knew I never believed in hell. The concept was created to keep us on track, and motivate us to do good. What if earth is hell? It sure felt that way.
What if everything we wanted was actually nothing? What if all the things we think are tangible, are actually figments of our imagination? What if life is actually death, and when we die we are truly alive? Wouldn’t that make more sense?
For if this is life, surely some of us wouldn’t inexplicably yearn for death so badly?
I didn’t die because I wanted it to stop, although towards the end I probably partially did. Please understand this. I did it because I had a burning desire in the depths of my soul for something more—a kind of wanderlust for an unknown abyss, a whole world yet to be discovered. Isn’t that what we’re always told? That the unknown is exciting and enthralling?
Who said death had to be this morbid. If you’re crying, please stop. What if my death is a glorious celebration? Could you celebrate it for me? Could all of you dance, and sing my favorite songs around my soulless body?
Again, please don’t cry. Don’t mourn. Don’t grieve. I am happy now. Happy. Truly happy. Believe this.
I love you.
Original Source: http://thoughtcatalog.com/najwah-essop/2013/10/an-open-suicide-letter/
