Middle C

I would not leave a note. At least I don’t think I would. What if it didn’t go as planned? That would be the worst.
They say women want to fail just for the attention, men want to succeed to get it done. For me the fear of embarrassment would mean I would do my homework to make sure I didn’t fail.
I know many would consider that success a failure, or my failure. And in a way I agree- in some way I should have been able to make this better. So in that I failed. And maybe I could if I had the desire- but that’s the problem. The depression, the loneliness, the anger are one thing (OK, three)- but as long as you have the desire for something you can go on, and do go on. But once you no longer have any desire- when the anger clears but instead of peace and contentedness there is just emptiness, and no desire, well, you don’t want to go on.
If I told someone, I am sure they would reassure me that it will get better. But the problem is- I don’t care if it gets better. I told someone once- but they didn’t take care of it, didn’t treat it as important. Someone that is supposed to care for you more than anything. And that was worse than saying nothing at all. It is one thing to suffer in silence, because you can still hold onto that belief that those around you care about you and if they only knew then they would try to help. But to tell and realize they don’t care enough to do anything- makes it that much worse. Talk about feeling alone. I don’t think I will try that again- if I do it will be a long time from now, or I will be in a place much worse than I can now imagine. Another hope lost. Another desire gone.
The final desire was all that remained- to see how it ends. You know, when you realize the movie you are watching is not good but you still have to watch to the end? Yes- I am one of those. But I am no longer even curious how it ends. I know now that any prolonged ending would not bring any surprises. There is not even anything I am really curious about. Better to go out on a relatively good note (in other’s eyes) rather than let it drag on.
With that last desire gone- what remains? I am sure I will be blamed, called selfish. But how selfish are you to demand someone live in pain? Live with nothing? You would go on fine without me. Better than if I was around in fact. I am no role model, not anymore. I don’t want to spread my poison. I find some peace in knowing you will go on fine without me.

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