death, friendship, love, suicide, suicide-note, wisdom

You ought to know, you were my best friend. You were. I know you loved me. I loved you.No one should have gone through what we went through, but we did. And it kills me to think of it.But I didn’t love you like you loved me. I don’t hate you for that. It just makes me sorry, that there isn’t someone else who could love you better.I know when you think about how I went, you’ll get it. I was always uneasy about being alive. The idea of being dead makes me feel clear. When I think of it. It makes me think peace, peace, peace. It makes me happy. I am looking forward to it, to the absence of everything. And so I want you to be happy for me, that this is better for me. That I found what I needed. I know you won’t be. But it’s the last thing I want. You happy.

Alexander Chee, Edinburgh

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