I feel like there is a gun resting against my head. No, not my head. My leg or something. If the trigger were to be pulled, i wouldn't die. I wouldn't cease to exist. I would live on, but not the same way i did. I would never be whole again, i would be crippled. But with all these woulds and wouldn'ts i'm ignoring the fact that there is a gun aimed at me, my head or leg or any other miscellaneous body part. I'm hanging by a cable. Or at least, it was a cable. I was strong. Emphases on was. The years went my and my cable became threadbare, everyone I ever loved seemed to need to take a little piece of me as a souvenir. There must be someone that doesn't need to take a piece of me.
Never did i think I'd be standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump. It would be so easy to jump. Land in the soft arms of abyss. To be comforted by darkness. Death has taken enough from me, the least it could do is see me off. I won't jump though, i know i won't. Dispite the hurt they caused me, i couldn't bear to hurt them. After all, there might be some one out there that would care. That wouldn't let me jump. They might even catch me. They might not pull the trigger, or even take out the gun.