HeartThatFeeds
Fixed in one determined flash
- Aug 19, 2023
- 112
I'm not a spiteful person.
But I do to get angry quickly and feel small spouts of what I can only describe as pure anger at the mere concept of someone because of my borderline, but the way I feel now I've never really felr until he died.
Most days I just feel numb, with neutral feelings towards him. Of course there are times where I miss him but even those feel few and far between, I'm not sure exactly why, maybe it's my brain trying to protect myself by repressing these feelings. After all I loved him, so much I was willing to move to a completely different country to be with him and got engaged.
It hurts that the only thing I feel now is hatred for him, It's not like I want to feel this. But the fact he killed himself fills me with so much rage.
He told me if only 20 minutes before he took his life that I was stupid for feeling suicidal at the time, that I was getting married, starting a new job, that I had so much ahead of me but he fucking killed himself the same day.
He robbed me of that life and left me with nothing and I don't think I will ever be able to forgive him for that, to leave me with nothing but even more trauma and this feeling of complete loneliness eating away at me. I think if there ever is an afterlife, and whenever I die, that the first thing I would do is scream at him, tell him how much he has ruined me, that I can't find the joy in ever simple things. That I so badly want to join him but after seeing how badly it's affected me and those around me I don't think I have the guts to join him.
I just hope whenever he is he knows how much I've suffered. The end may have been quick for me but I have to live with this for the rest of my life, while he never had to be alive to know how much It's affected me, how for day after day I begged to die. Me, someone who isn't even remotely religious prayed for god to kill me as every one of my breaths brought me more and more agony.
If there isn't an afterlife, then I'm fucked. Because it means he'll never get to know. And that's the worst part. I want him to know. I need him to know.
I consider killing myself often, and I have the means to do so. However It feels to me, even worse for me to just give in, even if I know it's what he'd hate the most, maybe I just want to prove a point, maybe I just enjoy suffering.
But I feel as if now I could neber stoop so low as him, and if I do it would be by the same means as him, an impulsive attempt with no logic, throwing my life away for simply no other reason. The ultimate irony.
But I do to get angry quickly and feel small spouts of what I can only describe as pure anger at the mere concept of someone because of my borderline, but the way I feel now I've never really felr until he died.
Most days I just feel numb, with neutral feelings towards him. Of course there are times where I miss him but even those feel few and far between, I'm not sure exactly why, maybe it's my brain trying to protect myself by repressing these feelings. After all I loved him, so much I was willing to move to a completely different country to be with him and got engaged.
It hurts that the only thing I feel now is hatred for him, It's not like I want to feel this. But the fact he killed himself fills me with so much rage.
He told me if only 20 minutes before he took his life that I was stupid for feeling suicidal at the time, that I was getting married, starting a new job, that I had so much ahead of me but he fucking killed himself the same day.
He robbed me of that life and left me with nothing and I don't think I will ever be able to forgive him for that, to leave me with nothing but even more trauma and this feeling of complete loneliness eating away at me. I think if there ever is an afterlife, and whenever I die, that the first thing I would do is scream at him, tell him how much he has ruined me, that I can't find the joy in ever simple things. That I so badly want to join him but after seeing how badly it's affected me and those around me I don't think I have the guts to join him.
I just hope whenever he is he knows how much I've suffered. The end may have been quick for me but I have to live with this for the rest of my life, while he never had to be alive to know how much It's affected me, how for day after day I begged to die. Me, someone who isn't even remotely religious prayed for god to kill me as every one of my breaths brought me more and more agony.
If there isn't an afterlife, then I'm fucked. Because it means he'll never get to know. And that's the worst part. I want him to know. I need him to know.
I consider killing myself often, and I have the means to do so. However It feels to me, even worse for me to just give in, even if I know it's what he'd hate the most, maybe I just want to prove a point, maybe I just enjoy suffering.
But I feel as if now I could neber stoop so low as him, and if I do it would be by the same means as him, an impulsive attempt with no logic, throwing my life away for simply no other reason. The ultimate irony.
