they stood at the edge, not knowing what to do with themself. they let out a small shuddering breath as they looked down. they never really did like heights.
they didn't exactly know why they were here or if they were even actually going to jump, all they knew was that there was a pounding in their head and a longing in their hearts. this longing wasn't for someone, it wasn't even really for this terrible cycle to end. they barely even knew what the longing was for, they just knew what they saw over and over again in their head.
they continued looking over the edge. it shouldn't make them feel this way. they shouldn't be like this. they shouldn't feel this longing.
they continue thinking nothing but horrible thoughts, taking someone with them, dragging a knife across their whole body, not leaving a single inch without the nice stain of red on it. they felt tears start falling.
they don't want that, don't want this. but the longing won't stop, the pure need never goes away. they take another deep breath.
they think about the man who liked their body, they think about their father who was waiting for them in the afterlife (if there was one, they think before stopping themself, they don't need to add their religious trauma to what was already mental torture), they think about their loving partner, who they wish would be strong, who they wish could be happy, who they wish didn't have to go through what they did.
they let out another sigh and walk away from the edge.
maybe another day they will get rid of the longing.
maybe another day they will rid themself of the need.
maybe another day.
