Chasing After My Love.

Day one

TRIGGER WARNING. IMPLICATIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, SELF-HARM, OVERDOSING, ETCETERA. DO NOT PROCEED WITH THE STORY IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED BY ANYTHING.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THE AUTHOR DOES NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR ACTIONS.

I ran after the one whom I longed to meet.

Funny, they kept getting out of my grasp.

I wanted to cry. Cry my soul out. Cry until I saw the red that filled my puffy eyes.

I had too much grief to handle. I could barely stand up.

The weight on my shoulders was too heavy to bare. They kept me from just slightly grabbing the one whom I wanted to see.

It was torture, truly torture. Nothing went right for me. It was terrible.

I don't remember the last time I ate, the last time I slept.

The only thing I remember is what I just thought of a few minutes ago. I only remember the fact that I pondered all day about what I was going to do.

I didn't have anything in mind. I was pitiful. Life is pitiful.

I'm pitiful. A failure, a mistake. 

I can't achieve anything.

I just want to feel like I'm needed, but I can't even do that. I can't talk to anyone.

What time is it? I don't know anymore. I've lost all sense of the world. 

I want to drown in the bathtub, but it's too dirty.

There's mold growing on my walls. There're maggots in my closet. I haven't cleaned up. I don't remember when the last time I did was.

I want to go out, but I can't. The only thing I'm managing to do is make a living off of writing pitiful books online and getting donations.

I can barely pay my rent and bills. I want to die.

I really want to die.

I don't know what I'm doing with myself anymore.

I can't escape.

I can't escape.

I can't escape.

I can't escape.

I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of unsaid words. These words in my brain overwhelm me. I can't breathe because of them. They're choking me.

I don't remember when the last time I contacted my mother was. What did she ever do to me? She never wronged me.

She was there for me. She loved me.

My mother was a great lady.

..Right. She's dead. I can't contact her.

I regret it. I should have talked to her that day. Her spam calls...

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Mom, I'm sorry for everything.

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You too, dad. I didn't have a great relationship with you, but you tried.