I want to be dead. I've been suicidal this weekend. I know no one cares, and I know I don't even care. I don't want attention for this. I might want help. I came to understand just how much someone I have cared about in ways he never knew really despises me in ways I never knew. He said I'm ugly, disgusting, and he hates me. I wish he had hurt me. I would have deserved it. So I guess I said I wouldn't contact him again. I hope that pleases him. I hope he forgives me someday. I doubt I will be alive when that happens, but let me make this clear: I am not suicidal because of him. I feel really blank about him. It should hit me really hard, to hear all this stuff. But when I heard, it sort of all made sense. It just wasn't as clear to me. And I maintain some faith that he did love me. Nothing he says will make me waver in that belief. Because I need that to survive. And I'm not sure I'm surviving anyway. Tomorrow is my brother's birthday, and he's having a big dinner party tonight, so like I always do when guests are over, I'm in my room alone feeling shitty. Typical. If anyone wants to know what it feel like to kill a person, do it ot me, we can stage it as a suicide together, and you can do it. Kill me I mean, and I'll make sure you don't get caught. It'll take some of the pressure off of me to do it myself. I know that that is an unfair request. But life goes downhill. It always has, and I know it always will. I feel like Promethius, at least that's who I think it is, with his rock, pushing it up and up just to have it roll back down. An endless cycle of devotion. I don't think I will sleep with anyone before I die. I don't think I will have sex with anyone ever again. Thank god, that gets me in so much trouble that it won't even provide the relief I desire.Goodbye (I hope, I pray that I can do it, though I know I'm a puny pathetic ugly, loathesome, disgusting (as he says) man. I doubt I will do it tonight. But maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow it will all be over.)
Chuck