Honestly, sometimes I feel more and more like jumping off of a building when I think about growing older. I'm terrified of losing the things I care for most. I want to live forever, but at the same time I'm horrified at the very idea of the people I love dying before me. I don't want to lose anything. Sometimes I'd really rather die.
I feel like I've never done anything worthwhile. Nothing I've done has ever been enough; no matter what, I'm not living up to this mythical 'potential' everyone tells me I have. I really don't feel like I'll ever be good enough for anyone. Worst of all, I don't think I'll ever be good enough for Other Lover, the one person whom I wish to please more than anyone else in the world. The one person who I would do anything for, anything at all. But I've never been good enough. And more and more I ask myself why I try. Why I keep putting myself through this pain. Honestly, it's not like there's any good reason for me NOT to die, other than my serious distaste for death. I don't like the idea of dying. But to tell the truth, I don't really concern myself with the results of my death- I'd be dead. It'd make absolutely no difference. And I don't really care about the idea that suicide is 'cowardly' or some other sort of negative adjective. That's about as meaningless to me as saying that eating meat is 'cruel'.
Honestly, I think it's just the self-preservation instinct that has kept me from jumping. That, or I don't want to die enough, yet. I have pretty damnably easy access to a tall building with no guard rails, so it's not like there's a lack of access. Naturally, jumping is the only palatable option. A gun is both difficult to obtain and doesn't really suit my aesthetics. Drowning is horrifying. Slit wrists... Well, let's just say I have a serious aversion to razors and cuts. Hanging is easy to bungle and make a long, painful process. It seems that jumping is the only logical way.
Of course, there's also the fact that I don't want to leave O.L. behind. I don't want to lose the chance to spend my life with him. And so... Well, I dunno. Maybe it's wrong that he's the only person I'm truly concerned about in this respect- we're not even dating yet- but... I love him. More than anything else. So maybe he's why I don't do it.
Ugh... In any case, I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I've not left my mark, yet. At the very least, I need to be published first. So anyone reading this who knows me needn't call the goddamn police or ambulance. Besides, that involve the psych ward, and I'm an adult now. There's no way in hell I'm going there. *shudder*