Every day without you feels like a suicide note. I find myself in the AM hours with the urge to tie up lose ends and go. This bed feels like a casket but at least under the ground I'd finally get some sleep. Dying every second I can't find any peace. "I don't want to be here anymore," but I'm not sure when I did, because there isn't any point there's only pain and I just want it to end. I'm gone and my life has no meaning, there is no end to the internal screaming. Don't tell me it gets better because for some it never does. Can't this heartbreak at least kill me so I don't have to feel anymore? I can't keep this up. What do I have to live for? I wrote a note a week before my mom went to the hospital, before she died. It was to her and my dad, it was my goodbye. I put it away and I survived. Have I survived? I tried. I told myself I was fine. I lied.

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