After all of this pain, this heartbreak, this...betrayal...you begin to wonder if happiness is possible for you. You see everyone else, so happy...so...you can't even think of a way to describe it. It's not like you want to feel this way, especially when it gives them another reason to make fun of you. To shove it in your face that they were right. That you are nothing. A loser. Nobody likes you, most people even hate you. You try to reach out for help, but you get pushed farther and farther away, being told you're only doing this for attention. That your emotions are fake. Or it's just a phase, and you'll get over it. You're told that everything is going to be okay. As you sit in your bed, crying at night, you think to yourself "Is this okay yet?". You lose those who you held closest. You're about to give up. But then you meet this one person. This...this last chance of escape from the bottomless pit of depression. You trust them. You fake yourself into believeing that they genuinely care about you. About who you are. You feel...as if for once in your life, that you're not alone. This is nice, until you realize that they never cared. That they were just lying to you. That you don't matter to anyone. So now, you are truly alone. You contemplate suicide, all the while becoming more depressed because you know you wouldn't be missed. Some people would probably be happy. Every time you try to talk, your opinions, feelings...are discarded. Now you want to kill yourself. Not even because you're depressed. You just have this longing to prove them wrong. To explain to them that YOU ARE NOT OKAY. To get them to understand. It's not like you want to die, it's just that you don't want to live anymore. Whenever you are in somewhat of an okay mood, you're scared. You spend that entire time waiting for something to go wrong. You've stopped being surprised when things go terribly, terribly wrong. By now, it's all you know. Every night before you go to bed, you look at the scars on your body. Memories come flooding back. You pull out the razor and hack away at the little humanity you have left. Before you fall asleep, you say "Please, don't let me wake up". You have a dream. You dream that you regain old friends. Someone hugs you. You are loved. You dream of happiness. Then you wake up. The continuation of this cycle is tearing you apart inside. You can't take it anymore. You pick the lock on the gun safe. You stare at this weapon. This possilbe savior. The end. You begin to cry. You argue with yourself for about an hour. Your depressed, desperate, lonely, hopeless side wins. You load the gun. You put it to your head. Your finger wraps around the trigger. You look at the phone, but tell yourself "No, I...I can't". You close your eyes, and pull it. Is this what you wanted? Or what you felt forced into? Are you going to be happy? Or just numb? I guess in this case, no feelings whatsoever are better than the ones life threw at you. Maybe next time things will be better. If there is a next time.