Die a lonely guy ♡ Weekman

12

The same day💫
Dallon🌙
    
I could feel the tears already making their way to my eyes. I tried to breath in & and out to steady my breathing, to calm me down. But nothing was working. I let out a whimper, still not giving into my senses.
    
Breath. Just breath. Don't think about the letter or anything. Keep breathing.
   
A sob escaped my mouth as i gave up on trying. I'm so sorry Ryan.
    
I stood up, letting the letter fall to the ground as i wobbled to the bathroom mirror. Opening it i saw my escape weapon. There lied a little razor blade, stained with past mistakes.
     
Grabbing it, i headed into my room. After searching for a bit i finally found a blue pen. With the razor & pen in hand, i headed back to the bathroom.
     
Sitting up against the bathtub, i grabbed the letter once more.
     
I want you to live. I want you to want to live.
   
Seeing that made me sob. Ryans want me to live yet im sitting here getting ready to write a fucking suicide note. On the back of Ryans lovely letter as well.
     
Turning the paper over, i wrote in very sloppy handwriting;

Dear Ryan,
I love you. I should have said it in person before time ran out. But i took time for granted. I want to stay, stay with you. But i lost my chance. You're better off with Brendon anyways.
     
I'm sorry. I dont want you to have to deal with me anymore. I want you to live happily without stressing over someone as pathetic as me.
     
It was fun while it lasted though. You really made me forget about my parents & even sister leaving me. You've changed my life & i cant thank you enough. You're perfect, Ryan Seaman.
     
Writing this is lifting my spirits up. I'm regretting this decision already. So you might never read this. But... promise me this, if i lose to myself, you wont mourn a day, and you'll move onto someone else.
Love,
Dallon
    
I set down the paper & pen, but keep the blade in my right hand. Do i go through with this?     I close my eyes & see Ryan. His grin, his blue hair, the leather jacket he always wears. His laugh & warmth. The amount of times he's made me smile when ive wanted to slice my wrists open.
     
I see ryan again. But this time, he's sad. No, stressed. I see him stressing over making sure i dont do something pathetic. See him stressing about how much trouble i cost. Having to care for my wounds, mentally & physically.
     
Ryans done so much for me, it's pathetic. Ive caused him so much distress.
     
Tears stream down my face as i hold the blade against my left wrist. I'm a fucking burden. No wonder all my family has left me.
     
Useless.
   
Burden.
    
A problem.
    
A mistake.
     
I drag the blade deep into my wrist all the way to my forearm & scream out in pure agony. My left arm throbs while i grab the blade again. I barely made it half way my right arm before screeching in pain. I'm too much of a coward to cut the whole arm.
     
Both my arms drop as i close my eyes, feeling the blood ooze down my hands & onto the tile floor. Everything's starting to feel fuzzy. I'm sorry Ryan...

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