memoirs of a (...)

i wanted love
i wanted money
i wanted drugs
i wanted to forget
then i realized i just want to be free from all this bullshit; happy.

one more suicide.

So I’ve had my handgun to my head at least twice before, loaded chamber, finger on the trigger, balling out bitch-tears like a emo douchebag. Never pulled the trigger, but I regret not doing so after.

Tonight I had it up to my head again, finger on the trigger, imagining how nice it would be if I could find the strength to actually pull the trigger. Then suddenly a loud *click*. The chamber was empty. I realized what happened and started balling out bitch-tears even more, realizing I have to go back to my shitty life within a few seconds, knowing that trigger pull could have ended it all and I’d never have to feel pain again. I didn’t feel regret knowing I could have died, I felt regret knowing I didn’t load the chamber.