journal entry #23 - final entry
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it's currently 1:12 am.
i miss you, josh.
i don't think i've cried this hard in a while.
nothing has gone right for me today.
some of my cousins came to visit.
the youngest, sullivan, is six.
he pointed to my wrists and asked what happened.
i told him the cat scratched me.
he didn't look convinced.
i changed into a hoodie after that.
you're leaving tomorrow to go see your aunt in iowa.
you went to bed at 9 tonight because you had to get up early.
i remember you texting me, "goodnight baby boy. ill see you soon."
it's sad knowing those are the last words you'll ever say to me.
at least i'll die knowing you loved me.
it's currently 1:22 am.
i've got this burning feeling in my chest.
it's right where your ribs end in the middle.
like, 5-6 inches above your belly button.
it's not a physical pain, though.
it's more of an emotion-filled sting.
it's a feeling that screams, "i don't want to exist anymore."
i've sat here since 12:37 reading our old texts.
looking through all of our photos.
subconsciously trying to talk myself out of this.
it's no use, though.
this is the first time you haven't been able to make me smile.
nothing can make me smile tonight.
and i'll never smile again.
it's currently 1:32 am.
i'm scared of my own ceiling.
the fan on this ceiling is the perfect place for this beautiful creation.
this beautiful device; woven of dead trees in an unbelievably intricate fashion.
just feeling this lump of mass brush against my neck makes me feel free.
fear will be the death of me.
fear leads to anxiety.
i don't know what's inside of me other than this heavy, dirty soul that conquers my being.
hey, josh?
please don't forget about me.
i know i won't forget about you.
it's currently 1:42 am.
i'm trying to sleep.
i'm trying to get my mind off of what's about to happen.
once this clock hits 2:00 am, i'll be dead.
i'll be in a place where pain ceases to exist.
i promise i'll be okay, baby.
i promise i'll finally be happy.
i feel terrible that you'll be the one to find me.
you promised you'd stop by my house in 4 hours and give me a kiss goodbye.
i wish i could give you a kiss goodbye.
my beadsheets are stained with that beautiful crimson liquid.
some of it's dry now.
it looks like a strangely beautiful tye-dye creation.
the white mixed with red and maroon and crimson and brown.
it's like one giant, beautiful mural.
and some of the dried spots have these pretty rings.
from when it'd drip onto these bedsheets.
i'd wait for that cut to stop bleeding, then make another one.
the new blood would drip onto the already semi-dry, damp spot.
this would continue.
once it's all dried, it truly does look like something that should go in an art museum.
i wish we could have gone to an art museum, josh.
it's currently 1:52 am.
i love you.
it's currently 1:54 am.
i just sat in silence for a bit.
wow.
sometimes quiet is violent.
it's currently 1:55 am.
i've just hung the killing machine in it's place.
it looks so graceful; still lightly swaying from when i set it up there.
the stool is set up just below it.
i keep touching it and running my fingers over it's rough, scratchy self.
this all seems so surreal.
this is happening.
i'm doing this.
it's currently 1:56 am.
there's a picture of you and i sitting on my dresser, josh.
it's from when we travelled to england and went on the manchester eye.
you set up your phone and put on a timer.
i remember it all so clearly.
we both made funny poses.
but, then you grabbed me as it hit two seconds.
you kissed me for the first time.
we both turned this shade of pink that is impossible to describe.
tingles rattled through my spine and i felt weak at the knees.
it was all so perfect.
you asked me to be your boyfriend.
through tears i squeaked out a tiny 'yes' and hugged you.
who knew my life would only go downhill from there.
it didn't even go downhill because of you.
it's currently 1:57 am.
i love you josh.
i really do.
with all my heart.
it's currently 1:58 am.
i smashed the picture of us.
not because i hate you, though.
i wanted to feel closer to you.
i took out the picture.
i'm holding the small 8x10 photo of you and i in my hand.
i want to remember every detail of your face.
every flaw.
every imperfection.
they're all perfect to me.
it's currently 1:59 am.
i can't even see the picture now.
the tears just keep coming; flooding the vision i once had.
all i can see is a blurry face.
fifty seconds.
it's getting closer.
i'm getting closer.
closer to freedom.
i'm closer than ever before, josh.
i can almost touch it.
fourty seconds.
i love you, josh.
thirty seconds.
my time is ticking away.
twenty seconds.
i just realized my heart beat matches up with the ticking of the clock.
isn't it funny that i don't have many ticks left?
fifteen ticks.
the ticks seem to be mocking me at this point.
only ten ticks left.
nine.
eight.
seven.
six.
five.
four.
three.
and with only three seconds remaining in that broken boy's life, he smiled.
he smiled for the first time in a very long time.
he smiled because he was finally going to be free.
and for those last three seconds, that smile never dimmed.
two.
one.
it was two am.
he scribbled a quick "i love you, josh." onto the bottom of the page and closed the small, leather book.
he then gently but gracefully stepped off the stool.
before that gorgeous killing machine had the ability to do it's damage, one last thought rang through tyler's head.
"what an odd thing to smile about."
