Letter #128

Content Warnings: generalized anxiety, suicidal thoughts


Hey man, how are you doing?


I don’t know who you are or what you’re going through, but I know a lot of things are going on. Maybe they are good; maybe they are bad. Maybe you were hoping for more. I get in that kind of mood sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. I start thinking about chain reactions and what has been and what will be. And I get scared, really scared, to the point of fight-or-flight. When frightened or nervous, I usually get angry and want to fight, but you can’t fight Time, Death, or Eternity. So I fight myself to not fight my friends. 


It hurts; do you hurt? Do you just want it to end? Let me tell you why I keep working through these thoughts.


Item one: to not live is to die. When you die, people have a lot of thoughts on where you’ll go. There is the pagan afterlife, which tends to involve either horrible torture or just floating endlessly in a dark hole in the ground. The idea of rebirth doesn’t help. Heaven or Paradise would be the best option, except the Father would be so disappointed in me if I just killed myself. Also, Hell is the other half of that coin. Ceasing to exist altogether would be the worst of all. Maybe you feel you would like that, but just give me a minute here. Let’s personify Oblivion. Let’s say they’re a fat, humorless, dank pig who cuts you off in traffic and cheats at bingo. Believe me: they don’t deserve you. If you were less than a grain of dust, they still wouldn’t.


Item two: let’s pretend, for a moment, that there really was someone so low, like negative 273° Celsius low, whose death would be an insult to Oblivion. Well, that guy has no dreams, no plans, and no existential crisis. He’s already dead. If the only thing he wanted was to end it all, there would still be a speck of life in him to end, a microscopic speck that is still infinitely more than Oblivion. That life, that tiny spark that still seeks satisfaction, that’s enough.


I love you.


“Excuse me,” you say, “you don’t know me. Even if you did, you couldn’t possibly understand the struggles I’ve gone through. No one understands me; no one loves me. I’m failing; I have to either succeed or quit because there’s no help coming from anywhere else.” 


Bullshit. I love you. Not for anything you do, but because I’ve been loved and it’s too good to keep to myself. I love you, I love you; a thousand times, I love you. Let me light my words on fire, let me speak with tongues of flame. Maybe your spark is going out. Maybe it’s getting awfully dark out there. Take the fire in my bones and burn until the demons flee. Do you even understand yourself? Do you realize how beautiful you are? If I knew how, I would give you all the life I have and take your darkness to Oblivion. But I don’t have the strength or the knowhow. Luckily, I know a guy.


Believe what you like about who you like; help is just waiting for you to ask.




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