"I am -->| this |<-- close to dying tonight...
No one would know. Someone once said the worst thing to happen is to be living in a world of 7 billion people, and have not a single one who wants anything to do with you. That's where I am. I don't have family. I don't have a friend. They don't get me, they don't want me. No one would know, until it was time to collect a bill on my room 6 months from now. Unless the smell of me tipped them off first. I would lie dead for days. Weeks. Months, even. And no one would know. Or care. I'd be another obituary in the daily newspaper, skimmed and dismissed callously over morning coffee.
Coffee. I like it sometimes. Think of it, I tell myself, all the tastes, sights, sounds, that you'll miss if you do this. Only it's not true. There's nothing on this earth that I love enough to stop myself from leaving it. I'm still young, and yet I feel older than an age. Every movement, every thought, is an effort. Something I've done over and over again 1,000 times, and still an effort. Everything is pain. There is a deep sorrow in me, an empty void that's only ever filled with pain. It surrounds my heart and tears it apart, so that it hurts it to thump inside me. I don't want this anymore. Not any of it. I want to be finished. I can't stand this loneliness any longer. I heard once, that "All people are alone in some ways, but some people are alone in all ways." The latter is me.
I am alone. My soul desperately needs. Something to hold onto. Someone. Anyone who can show me why life is worth this. There is still life where there is hope. My hope is dried up. I have no reason to endure this pain I feel in every crack and chasm of my self. I want to leave my broken heart behind. I want to leave.
But I suppose it's not really leaving, if I have nothing to walk away from. It's just the next step into another kind of homelessness. A new plane to wander. Another side to life. Death.
I never thought of myself as a wanderer, but I am. I am a wanderer, like others before me. We share the same plight, the same loss, and yet we never find each other. Because we are all following different paths to the same destination. We wander alone. And death is for us."
