The Suicide Diary Read Free Page B

particular reason or purpose. And so to date I have lived a fairly meaningless life, have contributed very little to the world and as far as I’m aware, bear little or no significance to most people I’ve come to know.
    I know of course I’m not the only one who has had to bear the consequences of their bad decisions. I of all people understand how well pain and regret can be hidden behind a show of contentment. However, there are times when it seems like no one could understand and I feel alone. It's almost impossible not to compare myself to my strong, confident siblings. Matthew is in a healthy relationship with a girl I genuinely like and always speaks optimistically about his career.
    Joshua, my angelic, baby brother wanders albeit as aimlessly as I do through life, and yet he does it with such enviable charm and enthusiasm that nothing in life seems to phase him. And my Mother, even after being abandoned by the love of her life is not only a success in her work life, and now that her children are grown up is at least open to the idea of love again. I think I will burn out like a tiny flame - barely noticeable in a room full of brightly burning lights.
    Compared to some I guess I've had more than the average number of relationships. I've never been dumped. I’m not bragging, simply stating a fact. Very few people have ever gotten close enough to me to be in an actual, functioning relationship and even then there was always a perfectly valid reason why it should end. I’ve come to realise – or at least believe - love is not the be all and end all in life. Whatever the meaning of life is supposed to be, this time around I think it’s too late for me. I keep thinking of the lyrics in a song I once heard. " I'll be perfect in my next life...” I hope so. Because quite frankly, I think I have truly screwed this one up.
    Over the years I’ve had many friends who I've just let drift through my life. And then there are those who were more than friends. I wouldn't really use the term 'relationships' since very few of them could fall into that category, but I guess it will have to do for the sake of describing the times I spent with certain people. Some were brief with unkept promises of keeping in touch and others who were in my life for varying periods of time but all eventually coming to an inevitable end.
    I know my need to keep people at arm’s length has made it difficult to be friends or have a relationship with me. I push people out of my life - all except those bonded by blood or the very few who haven't given up yet. Or at least I think that's the reason people don't stay in my life, but I could be wrong.
    The varying amount of time I spent in each relationship did not necessarily negate whether they became lovers or not. By today’s standards, I wouldn't be considered a slut, nevertheless, you could hardly class the ones I've been intimate with as serious affairs – that would suggest being in an actual relationship and I’ve never been very good at those.
    My little black book read more like every girl’s ‘what not to do’ when it comes to love and friendship. You would probably imagine names scored out and pages almost ripped from the spine.
    If this was a diary belonging to a normal girl there would be little happy stars intertwined with broken hearts and words from sappy songs alongside various cheerless lyrics from heartbreaking ones. Only I'm not writing this as a teenage girl and I already know that none of them worked out. I'm sitting at the age of twenty-five on the floor of my bedroom, in my flat and I already know how it's going to end.
    There is no one, simple reason why this came about. I wish it was easy as saying "I have to do this because..." and finishing off with a dramatic "Goodbye cruel world" or some other cliché. But life is never simple or straightforward. I guess the main reason would be my heart can't take any more scars and if I don’t do this, I doubt it would last much