My Suicide Note

By the time you read this, I hope to be dead.
I am writing this letter, the last thing I shall ever write, to try and have one last conversation with you. I know it will be one sided, but I have to do this. I don’t care what people think of me after I am gone. What they will say, what they will think. They will make conclusions of my life that are an inevitable. Some will call me weak and some will call me a tragic loss. I do not care what they think at all. But I do care what you think.

You can’t stop me and I wonder if you would even try.
Do you remember that day on the beach? You wore that wonderful sky blue bikini. You caught me staring a few times and I had to hide a blush. We made a pitiful excuse for a sandcastle, and we laughed as a little boy trampled all over it. I remember we splashed each other in the water laughing. I can remember so much from that day, but one part of it I will never forget. You were resting on the beach watching me swim out. I don’t remember how it happened but suddenly I was struggling for breath. My lungs ached and burned as they filled with water. I felt something pull over me like a warm sweater on a winter night. As I began to sink I looked up and could see the sun. It struck me as beautiful. I don’t know how long it took you to reach me. But the next thing I remember was your lips on mine. It wasn’t a kiss, but oh how I so wanted it to be. You brought me back to life and as I looked up at you, lungs gasping for air, I knew then and there I was in love with you. Sometimes when I lay awake at night… I sometimes wished I had died that day. That you couldn’t breathe life back into me, that you were too late.

We had some good times didn’t we? I like to think we did. We also had some bad times too. Life is full of moments and places. Some of them are good and some of them are bad. We can’t necessarily control when and where we experience them. While you look back on that day at the beach you must think it was a bad moment. While I, think it was a good time. I would like to think that most of our experience together was full of great moments. Memories that should be cherished forever, preserved in some museum dedicated to great moments in life. No such place exists and I wonder if it did would I be writing this letter at all?

I remember our first date. I had to lie to my parents about it. I told them I was going to study at the library. When in reality I was going to be seeing you. We went to some movie. I don’t remember a thing about the movie, I wonder and I hope that this is true for you. I stared at you as we held hands. I remember you caught me a few times and I had to quickly turn to see the movie and act as if I was watching it, and not you. On the third time you caught me, you squeezed my hand and as I glanced over at you, I fell in love all over again. We stayed like that for the rest of the movie and it was then you gave me my first kiss. It was soft and gentle, sending wonderful chills to dance along my spine. I will never forget that date, that kiss. As I die I hope it’s one of the moments I can replay before I die.

I don’t remember how long it was before you started to encourage me to do it. I don’t remember how long it took me to finally do it. My hands were shaking, my body felt sick. You held my hand tightly and kissed me on the lips. We had to do it. I knew it, and you knew it. But I still wished I didn’t have to. My family sat around the living room. Some basketball game was on, but no one was watching. You wouldn’t let them look away as I did it. I always loved that about you, you could command an army if you wanted to. I stood there and I felt naked. As my hand shook and I began to speak, I could feel your hand slide into mine and I knew it would be ok. I knew no matter what happened. I would survive this. I took one final deep breath and I told them about us. That we were lovers, you and I. My sister looked away in disgust, my mother clasped her hand over her mouth, my brother smiled slightly, and my father just stared at me. I returned his stare with an intensity that would rival the sun. I don’t remember how long I stood there looking into his eyes. Trying to figure out what he was thinking, what he might do. His expression was hard, but it wasn’t of disgust or disappointment nor was it of happiness. He finally nodded and smiled a little and I knew he would accept me. It might take awhile to digest this, to digest this news of his youngest daughter. I sometimes wonder if he would have acted differently if you were not there. If you were not holding my hand and then I am glad that you were there.

It was around then that my relationship with my family became strained. My mother grew up in a strict Catholic family. While she didn’t practice much after moving away, I knew what she was thought of me. My brother the pervert kept bombarding me and sometimes you about questions. My sister was just like my mother. She damn near worshiped her it seemed. She was always my mother’s favorite. Sometimes I wonder if she looked away in disgust that afternoon so she wouldn’t be seen differently by my mom. My father was the most accepting of them all. He didn’t grow up in a strong religious family. But I can clearly remember his hateful words towards homosexuals. I thought I would no longer be daddy’s little princess, but I knew he loved me.
It was something I had to do though. I shouldn’t have held it off for as long as I did. I am thankful to you for giving me the strength and courage to come out. If I were to categorize this moment as Good or Bad. I would have to put it down in the middle. Maybe the world should e black and white. Good or Bad. I don’t know, but I do know the world is full of grey areas. On the one side I am happy to finally be able to see you without sneaking around. To not care if they caught us making out in my bedroom when we thought everyone was away. I could take the lecture of how inappropriate it was to be home alone making out in my room. But I don’t think I could stand the idea of them finding out about me like that. My only regret was that we could no longer spend the night at each other’s houses… at least not without lying and sneaking about again.

You were my first lover. I remember the night so perfectly. Butterflies, a thousand it seemed, fluttered in my stomach. I had never seen another girl naked in person and I would only steal glances of myself in the mirror. I never was comfortable with my naked form. You led me to my bed and slowly undressed me. With shaking hands I slowly removed your clothing. I looked up at you with fear and love rolled into one. You looked down at me with a small smile, and with the most wonderfully loving eyes I had ever seen. It was then I felt sexy, attractive, and beautiful. The way your hand caressed my breasts, the feel of your lips on my body, I was in heaven. I remember that night so perfectly as if I have a video recording of it that plays in my head whenever I need someone or something to comfort me. Once in my life, experienced a perfect night and I want to thank you for that. You were my first lover and you will be my last.
You always praised me on my artwork. You were honest though. You showed me how I can improve what I was good at. You were never hesitant when it came to a brutally honest critique. I love that about you. I remember one night you asked me to draw you nude. You were on my bed in all your natural glory. I slowly sketched you, wondering how long I could last before I caved and joined you on the bed. I don’t know how long it took… but it was worth it. To see you shine like that. I had captured you so perfectly. Then it was my turn. I don’t know when I lost the confidence, but I remembered you almost had to force me out of my clothes. I sat down on the bed and laid back in a pose. I was scared, nervous, and excited all at the same time. When you were finished, I fell in love with you once more. You had captured me so perfectly. It wouldn’t be our only time we did something like that… but it was my favorite one.

Just as clearly as I can remember the day we made love to each other and the day you filled my heart with such pleasure and joy. I can remember the day you destroyed it. I thought we could last as long as the mountains and beyond. I thought we would be in love until we both died as little old ladies clinging to each other as death swept us away, leaving our corpses in a small smile. I don’t know why you broke up with me. I thought you had loved me. You shattered my heart and I wondered if I would ever feel whole again. I can tell you now that no such feeling ever came. You were the first thing on my mind in the morning, and you were the last thing I thought of before I slept.

Why did you pick her over me? What did she have to offer that I didn’t? I can remember the first time I saw you two holding hands. I knew in my heart and my soul what it meant. You had gotten over me, hadn’t you? I was just another face in the crowed. I hated you for that day. I wanted you to feel how I felt. I wanted you to feel the pain and the suffering I was going through. I hated you that day… but I still loved you too and I realized I could never truly hate you. Its then I turned to hate myself. I struggled with myself. I wanted to know why you had dumped me, why you went with her instead of me. It was something I did and I hated myself all the more for not understanding what I had done to drive you away! I still don’t know why you picked her over me, and why you picked someone else over them. Who ever created the heart should be punished for the pain it inflicts without warning, without justification.

The day I moved from that small town was the day I was doomed. I had wished you had at least come over to say good bye. You didn’t have to explain yourself, but seeing you one last time would have been nice. Just one last glance, one last word, anything would have been nice. I remember telling you about my moving and I sometimes see your eyes. They looked… sad. Then sometimes late at night I can see those sad eyes, only they are no longer sad. They are happy and thrilled and I wonder if I had mistaken the look in your eyes. I like to believe you were sad to hear that I was moving. Maybe it meant that someone still loved me after all. I waited for you to show. I delayed my parents by making up an excuse that I had lost something. I waited and then I realized you were not going to show. I hid my tears and face from my family and I watched as buildings I had grown up around, ones so familiar I could draw them in my sleep, passed by. I wondered if I would ever see them again. Wondered if I would ever return to the room, the movie theater, and the beach, where we made love. Perhaps not physical love, but a kind of love making that is pure energy between two people.

The people at my new school were not so accepting. But then I wonder if they were only accepting of us because of you? I joined the schools GLBT Club. It was fun being around people like me, like us. But not everyone was in a hurry to accept us. We were the end of peoples jokes, tormented. I remember one guy, had the most amazing singing voice, and was beaten in the shower room. I wasn’t aware teenagers could be full of such hate and violence. It was then I wondered if this life and existence was so great after all. My school life was once a great thing. I loved my teachers, everyone got along perfectly. But here in this new school, it was anything but short of hell.

My brother stopped asking me questions about my life style. I think he finally grew up and realized what a perv he was being. My sister never talked to me; accept for a few hellos and good bye here and there. My Mother would keep looking at me funny. She would encourage me to find a boyfriend and she would talk about my wedding with some Doctor or lawyer and the kids we would have. I think she pictured me with a guy, but every time I thought about getting married it was you. Sometimes in a doctor’s outfit, and other in something a lawyer might wear to court… only a bit more sexy. Here in my new home my Father and I grew close. I became Daddy’s Little Princess once more. He had caught me crying and I confessed to him things I thought I would take to the grave. I told him how I missed your touch, how the kids at my new school were evil, how I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I told him everything about us, about me, about how the family was treating me. Suffocating me. As I cried I wanted to disappear, vanish from this worldly existence. I pulled away from him, his shoulder wet from my tears and I looked at him. I had never seen my father cry. Not once. I can still remember the look he had at his brother’s funeral. Not a single tear. When his elderly mother passed away of cancer, he did not cry. I wondered if he was incapable of crying. He brought me into his arms and he cried. It was then that I found not only a father I could truly go to… but he became one of my good friends… no that’s not true. He became my best friend.

You shouldn’t blame yourself for what I have done. Why I decided to finally end it. You should grow old with someone you love and with someone that loves you. I hated you a long time. Now I look back and I realize something. I should have been your friend. I have learned that it’s better to have the person you love as a friend, then to cut off all contact and forget they ever existed. It may be uncomfortable at the start… but I think and I hope that it’s worth it in the end. I know this now; I just wished I knew that then. Perhaps maybe this past month would have been easier if I had a best friend. Because I no longer had one.

I remember the day clearly. I was at school sitting in geometry class. I watched the blue sky as fluffy clouds swam past, the sun peaking behind its hiding place. A small squirrel ran across the green lawn and came up to the window. It stood on two feet, its front paws held high, and it looked at me. It was then someone knocked on the classroom door. A kid in the grade below me, with a pink paper slip in his hand, stood there. We all knew what it meant. Someone forgot an appointment with a doctor or the principal wanted to see them. The teacher took it and she read it and called out my name. I had no appointments, and I had made sure to try and be invisible. When I arrived at the principal’s office my mother was sitting down crying. Two policemen were standing idly by. I sat down across from her and asked what was wrong. It was my dad she said, he had been killed in a hit and run. I felt my world crash around me. I thought things were going to be better. I thought maybe I could push away these thoughts and live a good life. I wanted to scream, I wanted to trash the small office. I ran out of the office in a blur, I wanted to be left alone. I got to the front door and realized I had no one to turn to now. I had nowhere to run.
Life at my house changed. My mom insisted that I get a boyfriend, that I shouldn’t be risking my soul. Every time my sister brought home her boyfriend, my mom would flock to him as if he were already part of the family. She would then glance over at me. My brother got real quiet and started to stay in his room most of the time.

I couldn’t take it any longer. I just wanted to die. I had slightly pressed the razor blade across my wrist and I wondered how easy it would be to accidentally slice through them. Maybe my brother would slam the door, my mother shouting at me from downstairs. But I looked in the bathroom mirror and I saw you. Sometimes your eyes were sad, like the day I told you I was moving. Other times they were happy and thrilled.

Life became too much for me. Life would never be the way it was when I was with you. You may blame yourself, but I hope you don’t, because I blame myself. I wished I had tried to stay friends with you at the very least. Tried to write you, call you up. Anything!

I still love you with all my heart. I am sorry.

I have no more words to write. Nothing more I want to say.

Good bye Sarah.

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I wrote this in a couple hours or so. A grand total of 3,246 words according to Microsoft Word. the story was inspired by a small letter that sorta started off the book 19 Minutes. It talked about how the writer of the letter hoped to be dead. Then sorta putting some blame on the recipient of the letter/note. and then asking a question. 'Will you miss me? and more importantly, will I miss you?" and then ending it by wondering whether or not they would want to hear the answers.

As I thought about this, words began to form. Characters began to form and it became stuck in my head and I had to let it go. First it started off as a guy writing to a girl. Then it became a girl writing to a guy. Or wait... was that reversed? Either way it finally ended up between a two girls who had been in love. Funny how things transform like that. Characters and the story slowly molds together, rejecting ideas and concepts on its own as if it were sentient. It then slowly begins setting down gruond rules for the author. You can write our story... but only if you follow these rules. Maybe this is just me. But I almost always have those scenes that are 'set in stone' I could change them... but it wouldn't be complete without them.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed this piece.

This has to be either my favorite of yours or in the top three or something. Unit, this is so marvelously beautiful that I almost cried. The details of how much she loved Sarah, their relationship to her downfall and her father's death, were all perfectly written. You are such a good writer, its unbelievable to me sometimes (:

Dude, you were inspired by a book? I told you to write a suicide note months ago.

Anyway, I thought this was fantastic. Mechanics were great. I can tell you really worked hard on this.
It brought me through such a range of emotions. I was never really surprised that the speaker was a girl. I somehow expected it to turn out that way... But going from sweet to hot to stomach-dropping sadness toward the end, it's just so perfect.

pinkcupcake wrote:This has to be either my favorite of yours or in the top three or something. Unit, this is so marvelously beautiful that I almost cried. The details of how much she loved Sarah, their relationship to her downfall and her father's death, were all perfectly written. You are such a good writer, its unbelievable to me sometimes (:

Thank you. It wasn't perfectly written. Glancing over a few sentences I realize I could word them better. But thanks for reading it. also as always, thanks for the confidence boost.

Hannah_Banana222 wrote:Dude, you were inspired by a book? I told you to write a suicide note months ago.

Anyway, I thought this was fantastic. Mechanics were great. I can tell you really worked hard on this.
It brought me through such a range of emotions. I was never really surprised that the speaker was a girl. I somehow expected it to turn out that way... But going from sweet to hot to stomach-dropping sadness toward the end, it's just so perfect.

Wait you did? I don't believe you... wait did you really suggest it? Sorry it was just so long ago... i think.

Wait what are you trying to imply? That I write like a girl? or are you trying ti imply that I am a typical guy? If its writing like a girl... then I guess thats sort of a compliment of sorts... though now i wonder if I can type like a guy might.

Thanks for reading. I am glad that the emotions I wanted to protray in this made it across.

First off: Unit, if you ever kill yourself, I'll bring you back to life and kill you all over again. We all love you too much!

Secondly, it's really good! It made me cry! Really...sweet...if a suicide note can be sweet...

Unit7 wrote:

Hannah_Banana222 wrote:Dude, you were inspired by a book? I told you to write a suicide note months ago.

Anyway, I thought this was fantastic. Mechanics were great. I can tell you really worked hard on this.
It brought me through such a range of emotions. I was never really surprised that the speaker was a girl. I somehow expected it to turn out that way... But going from sweet to hot to stomach-dropping sadness toward the end, it's just so perfect.

Wait you did? I don't believe you... wait did you really suggest it? Sorry it was just so long ago... i think.

Wait what are you trying to imply? That I write like a girl? or are you trying ti imply that I am a typical guy? If its writing like a girl... then I guess thats sort of a compliment of sorts... though now i wonder if I can type like a guy might.

Thanks for reading. I am glad that the emotions I wanted to protray in this made it across.

Uh... Neither, really. I just assumed it was a girl but when they mentioned their lover being a woman, I tried to picture a guy and just couldn't. The character was already drilled into my head as a woman. She just seemed so real. I couldn't just change her in the middle of the story.

Though I guess it could be writing like a girl. Maybe my subconscious heard the emotional depth and jump to the stereotypical conclusion that it was female.

dreamgirl18 wrote:First off: Unit, if you ever kill yourself, I'll bring you back to life and kill you all over again. We all love you too much!

Secondly, it's really good! It made me cry! Really...sweet...if a suicide note can be sweet...

Aww you would actually bring me back and kill me? I had no idea people on here cared that much. lol

Thank you for reading. I would label it more like bitter sweet. Parts of it are sweet and nice, while others are not so nice.

Hannah_Banana222 wrote:

Uh... Neither, really. I just assumed it was a girl but when they mentioned their lover being a woman, I tried to picture a guy and just couldn't. The character was already drilled into my head as a woman. She just seemed so real. I couldn't just change her in the middle of the story.

Though I guess it could be writing like a girl. Maybe my subconscious heard the emotional depth and jump to the stereotypical conclusion that it was female.

Wow I had not realized I could create such vivid characters. The idea really was to make you sorta guess, maybe assume it was a guy until she finally comes out to her family, though with maybe a few hints and such. Or I tried to add hints lol. Well whatever it was, its a a very high compliment you have just given me.

That was really amazing. It felt so real. It made me cry.
You are such a good writer.

Nice one. This really reminded me of Valerie's letter from V(have you seen it?). Well in the opposite way since Valerie's letter was about hope and this is more depressing but still very good

Aww you would actually bring me back and kill me? I had no idea people on here cared that much. lol

Well I would bring you back but to be honest I would probably use for manual labor along with all the other zombies I control

Rex wrote: Nice one. This really reminded me of Valerie's letter from V(have you seen it?). Well in the opposite way since Valerie's letter was about hope and this is more depressing but still very good

Aww you would actually bring me back and kill me? I had no idea people on here cared that much. lol

Well I would bring you back but to be honest I would probably use for manual labor along with all the other zombies I control

Thanks. I have seen V... but I don't remember Valerie's letter. Though I may have missed an episode.

So how are the zombie plantations/mines coming along?

that was really good unit i always cry when i read your stories.

Unit7 wrote:

Rex wrote: Nice one. This really reminded me of Valerie's letter from V(have you seen it?). Well in the opposite way since Valerie's letter was about hope and this is more depressing but still very good

Aww you would actually bring me back and kill me? I had no idea people on here cared that much. lol

Well I would bring you back but to be honest I would probably use for manual labor along with all the other zombies I control

Thanks. I have seen V... but I don't remember Valerie's letter. Though I may have missed an episode.

So how are the zombie plantations/mines coming along?

No. I mean V for Vendetta. You know this one. It's one of the most touching moments I have seen on cinema

Spoiler:

Sadly I am still have the Plants vs Zombies problem;)

Crap I forgot about V for Vendetta. You know I should really get my names straight or atleast remember them. Is there even a Valerie in V?

That part of the movie was always my favorite.

Also plants vs zombies is a really fun game.

was watching the video.

wow so many similarities

You know I would say I was bumping this, but its already at the top of the list.

^ oh no he's spamming!