The Contradiction of Living

I

None of you knew how far you pushed me, which is probably the saddest part of this story. If that doesn't prove just how fucked up I am, I don't know what does. Here I am, sharing the story of my suicide, and the saddest part is that you didn't know just what you did to me. I could give you some bullshit philosophical opinion on why that is, but I know just how much you hated that.

I could also introduce myself, give you the basics. Name, age, gender, location. But you hated that, too. So I'll leave it a mystery. Better yet, let yourself fill it in. Go ahead, assign me whatever gender you wish. Give me a name. Make it something interesting. Maybe I'm your best friend, pet, brother or sister. Maybe I'm you. Maybe I'm your same age and live next door. Maybe we're the best of friends. Here, I'll set it all up for you.

Hi, I'm ______, from ______. I'm pretty much your average ___ year old ______, if your average ___ year old ______ is a depressed suicidal maniac.

Did you like that? Was that an okay way of getting to know each other? I hope so. Tell me something about yourself. Anything, say it out loud. Maybe whisper it, because you're shy, or shout it, because you want to be remembered. That's okay, whatever you do. I know all about you already. That's why I'm like this. They say knowledge is power. I can't entirely disagree with that, but it could be worded better. Knowledge is a game of Russian Roulette, the more you know, the more bullets you have, the more likely you are to get yourself killed. That's just my analogy, though, I don't mean to force it on you.

Perhaps you're the impatient type, you want me to get on with the story. My story. Or perhaps you don't mind just talking to me. That's the thing about you, until we meet, I never can get a solid read on you, even if I know everything about you.

What, you want me to prove it? Okay. Let me prove it. I'd do anything for you. How do you want me to prove it? Tell you your favorite color? First name? Birthday? No, that's too generic. Too easy. Let me tell you something better. We'll meet, one day, and despite whatever you may tell yourself, you're afraid of me. I can see it in your eyes. Deep, deep down, in the darkest corners of your mind, you're scared. Terrified even. Even if you want to meet me you're completely terrified. That's okay. Even the bravest fear me, no matter what.

Your image of me is starting to change now, isn't it? You don't see me as quite normal anymore. I'm not the kid next door. But I am. I just know a secret. Do you want to know the secret?

I'm sure you do. Isn't the curiosity just eating you alive? What could I possibly know that could make the bravest soldier tremble?

I'll tell you, promise. But you have to do something for me in return. It's incredibly simple...

This is your last chance to back out.

Your final warning.

I don't like people who break promises.

So, do you promise?

Cross your heart?

Good.

I trust you.

Here's what I need you to do. Keep reading, no matter what. No matter how dark and twisted and cruel this turns, keep reading. Please. You need to know this. No cheating, either. I'll know if you do. You can't cheat me. No one can.

Right now it seems easy... But I told you this would be no fairy tale.
One day, you may regret this promise. But it will be worth it. You'll figure that out eventually.

Until we meet again, this is so long. Not quite goodbye, yet. The story hasn't even begun.