The Final Problem

 This is it.

The final problem.

The one thing that has been rearing its ugly face time and time again, the one that has kept me wondering for ages; I have now finally figured it out.

The final problem is me.

This probably won't come as a shock to you, seeing how unstable I have been throughout the years, but believe me, I have tried to be better, to do better. Yet it seems to always fall short. I cannot stress enough how many bridges I've burned unintentionally simply because I cannot control what comes out of my mouth.

It is ironic, to say the least. As someone who deals with words daily, I sure am careless with how powerful words can be. I have been irresponsibly wielding that power for too long, and now I face my reckoning.

I have lost yet another. This time even worse than previous losses. By this time, I am sure everyone would've expected me to learn from my mistakes and be better, yes? Apparently not. I may have improved a little, but I have not improved as a person. Not by a long shot.

This time around, though, she was kind enough to point out my shortcomings, and it is with a heavy heart that I report that I am indeed not a good person. I am the reason she left, and I am the sole reason that we won't get to try again despite the fact that we still love each other.

This really fucks me up. Knowing that she feels relieved to be free of me, knowing that no matter my resolve to fix things, it's already too little too late. What's worse is that this happened not even one week after my birthday. I am aware that I was not on my best behavior that day with her, but what I was not aware of was how much of an impact it had.

If I had the power, I would take it all away and fix everything. Alas, the finality has finally set in, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

And for that, I sincerely apologize to her and to anyone else I have wronged in the past. I never meant to bring anyone harm. I was and probably still am a misguided individual with a vast desire to be of service to anyone in need, or rather, just to the ones I love.

I am the final problem, and with that, I know what I must do.

I will now leave a little note that I had written years prior just in case the day would come, and now, it appears that it has. I am counting my days. I can no longer live in pain like this because it is unbearable. I am normally nonchalant toward people I don't like, but even I won't wish this on them.

                                                                                    ---

If you’re reading this, then chances are I’m not around anymore.

It’s hard to live your life when you just don’t have the will to do so.

It’s hard when you can’t feel the slightest joy without having to know that it will end.

I was never one to let go. Shit never worked for me.

I tried to live like everybody else, I really did. It just wouldn’t play into my hands.

Now, some of you may think “what a loser” or “should’ve spoken to someone.” Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you. You’re NOT helping. It’s because of people like you a lot of people resort to this, and had I not been dismissed so many times by the people I thought I could rely on, I might’ve found a way out.

Go. Fuck. Yourself.

Funny thing is, somehow I always knew I’d end up taking my own life, which, arguably is one of the worst ways to go, but it’s done anyway. The pain had to go away, even if it meant taking me with it.

I won’t go into details of my struggle with depression and life in general, because hey I won’t be slinging bullshit in my note.

Now, I just want to express my gratitude to the few people who would always look out for me.

You know who you are. Thank you.

I love you. Always have. Always will.

Eternally grateful.

-A