I took my own life last December.
I marched out into the woods with a cold, and cumbersome rope thrown over my left shoulder, and an empty heart. I left the path behind me, and I wandered around the woods in the cold for some time before finding the tree that would become mine. It was such a beautiful thing of nature, oh my. It was an old tree, bare of leaves, of course. The lowest branch was a few feet above my head, and climbing up was a struggle. I consider that my last accomplishment.
For a few moments, I sat on the sturdy branch admiring the world in which treated me so poorly. Like any other, I questioned my decision. I held the rope between my hands...
And I dropped the stupid thing. I leaped off my branch to retrieve it, but I still found myself inching my way up the bark in a matter of seconds. Maybe it was symbolic. I don't know.
What I do know is how to create a noose. Very simple, really. I got it on the first try, and I tethered it to the tree.
I hesitated for a while before putting the noose anywhere near my neck. But I wasn't happy. I wasn't sad either. I felt dead inside. But ending my physical life is something to be taken seriously.
Finally, I smiled toward the noose. I held a firm grip on it, and lowered my head into the loop. It fit like a glove.
I almost liked how the rope felt against my skin. It felt like a mother's kiss, telling her baby everything is alright.
But nothing is alright.
Nothing is okay.
I shot a smile to the sky. I took a deep breath.
I launched myself toward the icy ground.
Now it's all over...
