TW: Excerpts from Love Letters (or Suicide Notes)

I’m finally ready to be with you. Forever.

I never thought I’d feel this way.

I’ve spent sleepless nights wondering what to do.

…it’s like that one time, when I was a kid, I put my finger in dad’s table saw just to make sure I could still feel things.

It was so hard waiting this long.

I just got a new dining room table and chair set that would look incredible in your apartment.

…it’s also like putting your keys down literally two seconds ago but now they are nowhere to be found… How can something just not be there anymore.

I tried to tell you so many times.

…it’s also like the very instant you win a match of tug-o-war but if the “instant” was drawn out perpetually ad infinitum. A weightless exultation of victory but in the same breath you realize you’ve lost all control and your tumbling backwards to the ground.

Should I update my facebook status?

I’m just scared.

…it’s like… everything changes the moment you leave the grocery store. If you drop a jar of Teddie Peanut Butter inside the store, someone will tell you that they’re sorry and they’ll clean it up. But the moment you leave the store and drop the same jar, no one is sorry and you’ve got to clean it up yourself. And then go buy more peanut butter.

..or the way the CLINK CLINK CLINK CLINK of the roller coaster gears ratchet your old cart ever so slowly up the track higher and higher and higher. The noise, it has you kind of hypnotized the whole time and you’re laughing with the person next to you until the moment you hear the last CLINK⏤ but you don’t know it’s the last one until you don’t hear another one and by that time it’s way too late and how did you get here in the first place?? There’s nothing to hold on to anymore and there’s no way out but you haven’t started the plummet yet so all you can do is sit there in that moment and anticipate what is to come and it seemed like such a great idea at the time so you close your eyes and you throw your hands up in the air surrendering and screaming at the top of your lungs because that’s the only thing to do and you’ve got to do something after all. And I swear I’m not afraid of falling after all, but I am absolutely terrified of the thought of the very moment my body hits the ground.

I know there’s no such thing as “perfect timing” for something like this.

I rearranged the living room while you were at work. I don’t think the spider plant gets enough sun in the corner but I know you like it that way.