i want to be honest with myself.

the wanting-to-die feeling has never really gone away. it lurks beneath the surface; sometimes far below, sometimes close.

i have so many amazing friends. my family is good to me. i have so many wonderful people in my life. they love me. i love them.

but somehow that nagging, that urge - it always returns.

i’m tired.

i’m tired of living. i’m tired of trying. i just… i don’t want to anymore.

i know that if i continue, i’ll go on to have a good life. a great one, even.

i’ll probably fall in love, have a family. i'll have a career that isn’t perfect but suitable for the life i want to live.

i’ll experience everything that i can. i will sky dive. i will kiss a frog. i will be a bridesmaid in my best friend’s wedding.

i will do it all with 110%, because that is who i am.

because as long as i am here on this earth, i will make the most of it.

but that doesn’t stop the desire for it to just… stop.