Used to feel love for alot of things, and people. Felt pure and true love for two people in specific. One died, the other started hating the self and abandoned it after a fight.
Those people were the sole reason for living and the only reason things were fun. Anything is nice with a kind of person like that, the type of person who makes everything enjoyable. They enjoy hearing anything you have to say and you feel the same way. You go to bed excited to wake up the next morning, and you feel like you're a person that exists and is listened to.
If anything bad happens, if everything is devastating, you can just tell them about it and it wont be so scary anymore, because you can do anything as long as they're there with you.
Losing these people is the main reason for the self's daily, desperate wish for the courage to go through with suicide. It has been 8 months. They have made certain that there is no chance of ever meeting again. Haven't felt like a person since. Haven't experienced a single day of joy or peace or happiness or safety since.
Some people find others to love quickly. Finding someone like that can take alot of luck. Compatibility is easier for some then others. There are people who exist in the world that you can love, people who want to meet you. The chances that you will find them is not high.
For some people, you need a literal miracle to come across a person who fits you just right. Unlucky people never get that chance. Some people get lucky, and win the lottery. The self can't gamble 70 years of torturous waiting and rotting and suffering just for the invisible chance of maybe winning the lottery again, a chance which will almost certainly not happen.
