For The Rats (One-Shots)

For Suicidal Eyes

For Suicidal Eyes. 

I see the way you carry yourself, your clothes have gotten baggier and you lock yourself away in your house. Isolating... I know what you're feeling. To an extent, of course, but maybe just hear me out. There's a beauty in realizing nothing matters when you're planning to end your time. 

Let me know what you're thinking, you can talk to me. 

.. 

Those words are heartbreaking, but it's not like you're trying to be. 

And I'm honored that you told me, I want to support you as much as I can. 

So I'll skip class with you, we can go get coffee. In that cute little shop with the cozy lighting. Or maybe just go for a walk, sit in the grass in a park. Travel down to a pond, a secret, hidden spot. Watch the sunset, the sunrise, and don't tell your parents when you'll be back. I'm sure if they knew, they wouldn't mind. 

And we can head home, have a sleepover at mine. Stay up watching movies all night. And you can ignore the phone calls, maybe drop your phone off somewhere. You don't owe anyone an explanation, and you don't have to answer. 

It's like everything stops when you want to die. The world is irrelevant, you're living on your own time. 

Pulling all nighters, reading story after story. Listening to music nonstop, funny videos are never boring. There are no more rules when you're going to kill yourself, and to have that experience would heal my broken shell. ~ "I'll be gone tomorrow, so it doesn't matter if I skip those chores." And then you wake up, to the sound of angry roars. ~  I wish my experience couldn't been much more elegant in the past, but those days are gone and I'd rather not go back. 

I've heard of mothers who called off work to be with their suicidal kids. I've heard best friends sneak out at night to hang out like this. The time of a dying soul is precious. And in those moments, you truly can do anything. 

Knowing with certainty that the next day I would be found dead, I would try things, obviously, checking off just one more thing before I left. I'll write just one more story, I'll listen to just one more album, I'll just return Matt his sketchbook. Then I'll do it, I swear. Then the moment comes, without the dark affair. So easily distracted, getting sucked into a vacuume. What will happen? Maybe, I'll fall in love with you. 

When a soul is suicidal, it's the only thing that matters. Showing up for school, doing homework, going to work or sports are all irrelevant. Normal things are the least of your concern. It's almost funny, in a light. Watching others loose their minds over the simple things, "human" things, those normal daily tasks for the members of society. People's fretting becomes nothing. You have learned, in this focus on death, how to be alive. 

When you truely intend to die, you do as you wish without consequence. Let's sneak out and go to a concert, let's hop on the next train and ride it until the sky changes colors and we are beautifully lost in another place. Let's do things that scare us, because you only live once and it's about to be over. The longer you hold my hand, the more ideas you get. The more different ways we go off into the sunset. 

And we're sitting by the pond, the sun falls through the grass. The world is darkening, you're eyes, they shine like glass. Maybe, eventually you'll find a reason to stay alive. Maybe I wont have to stand over your grave and cry. 

And everything that's always hurt, if only I could've heard the words. 

"I see you."     "I believe you."     
"Let's drop all the rules and all the stress, and just go do something fun."        

"Your life is meaningful, you just have to find your purpose." 

Because you know what hurt the most?

Feeling this way, and feeling alone.

I didn't get the chance to do as I wished, though I read about it through countless pages. I didn't have a best friend to fuck around with, but I stayed up all night, reading about it. 

I still ate nothing, I still cried. I read 80 books in 3 months once, long ago by this time. I knew I was going to die, in my heart and soul. I had chosen suicide to be the end to my life. I was so ready, but I'm still here. And why? 

I found meaning in the endless albums I would hear. I saw meaning when I read books that brought me to tears. I felt hiraeth deep inside... I swore that I would create a much more beautiful life. 

All it takes is a dream. And this, is truth. 

Obsess, my love.

This obsession with lead singers took me from a girl to a man. Just one crazy idea, just one thought. Just one dream, is all it takes. 

I never thought I could ever be where I am today, and I have barely gotten started yet. 

A/N: 

I remember being in class, and my teacher pulled me aside. She asked if I was ever going to turn in my assignments, made it sound so important. And in that moment, the only thing I could think of was to laugh because it truly humored me. I was thinking, "I woke up this morning surprised to be alive, and you're asking if I'll turn my assignments in on time?"