amor.dor
"The heart, if it could think, would stop."
- Dec 24, 2025
- 170
There are days that are deeply tedious. Nothing pleases or displeases me. I don't feel angry, sad, or happy—I just look at everything as it is. But life has become nothing but repetition, ad aeternum. No food has any taste. I feel like I don't need anything more. It's as if the world has grown indifferent to me. For almost a month now, my curiosity and interest have been fading quickly.
I think I might soon be able to die because I no longer expect anything, and nothing in this world seems interesting anymore. I believe I could soon die without anxiety… because the will to live is already dead.
For over a year, I wrote down my thoughts until I finished. I spent a year gradually distancing myself from my family. I told my family and friends I moved to this city for work, and it's now been a year since I've been here—the perfect excuse so no one would worry.
I gave away the few games I had, since I never really enjoyed gaming much. I sold the guitar I used to love playing.
I wrote in my partner's journal the meaning behind every symbol, everything they ever wanted someone to understand—why they listened to the music they did, why they loved painting cats so much… I tried to unravel each detail and wrote down every meaning I understood and every step of the alchemical journey they might have taken.
They're gone now, and I was with them on a call when they took N. Their departure from this world was very peaceful.I stayed there, looking at the screen, at your body already lifeless—as if you were just sleeping. I could never abandon someone I loved... I stayed there for over 40 minutes.
I had ended our relationship because I had given up on living, and I didn't want them to die just because of that.We had made a pact for life… but I saw them improve a lot while I only grew worse during that time, and I already wanted to end my own suffering. What I didn't expect was that my partner had only kept living because I was always by their side. That was a fatal mistake I made.
Still, I kept the promise we made at the beginning—that I would be there for their CTB. I remember how, two weeks after we broke up, they messaged me saying they'd made their decision, and I stayed with them until the end. It was during that time that I revealed I'd been writing my own suicide letter. I showed it to them.
After all that, I stopped writing that letter and instead poured out many ideas, building a whole system of thoughts that grew quite large. But now, after everything I've done, I feel like I've exhausted it all. I feel it will soon be over.
I have nothing left to wait for.
I have nothing left to do.
I am nearing the end.
I think I might soon be able to die because I no longer expect anything, and nothing in this world seems interesting anymore. I believe I could soon die without anxiety… because the will to live is already dead.
For over a year, I wrote down my thoughts until I finished. I spent a year gradually distancing myself from my family. I told my family and friends I moved to this city for work, and it's now been a year since I've been here—the perfect excuse so no one would worry.
I gave away the few games I had, since I never really enjoyed gaming much. I sold the guitar I used to love playing.
I wrote in my partner's journal the meaning behind every symbol, everything they ever wanted someone to understand—why they listened to the music they did, why they loved painting cats so much… I tried to unravel each detail and wrote down every meaning I understood and every step of the alchemical journey they might have taken.
They're gone now, and I was with them on a call when they took N. Their departure from this world was very peaceful.I stayed there, looking at the screen, at your body already lifeless—as if you were just sleeping. I could never abandon someone I loved... I stayed there for over 40 minutes.
I had ended our relationship because I had given up on living, and I didn't want them to die just because of that.We had made a pact for life… but I saw them improve a lot while I only grew worse during that time, and I already wanted to end my own suffering. What I didn't expect was that my partner had only kept living because I was always by their side. That was a fatal mistake I made.
Still, I kept the promise we made at the beginning—that I would be there for their CTB. I remember how, two weeks after we broke up, they messaged me saying they'd made their decision, and I stayed with them until the end. It was during that time that I revealed I'd been writing my own suicide letter. I showed it to them.
After all that, I stopped writing that letter and instead poured out many ideas, building a whole system of thoughts that grew quite large. But now, after everything I've done, I feel like I've exhausted it all. I feel it will soon be over.
I have nothing left to wait for.
I have nothing left to do.
I am nearing the end.
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