That feeling when you pour your trust into someone's hands and they drop it. 

That feeling when you put on a show, a smile and you get made fun of for being you.

That feeling when the people you trusted and cared about lie to your face.

That feeling when you notice their empty worries and sorries.

That feeling when you sit there listening to your favorite song and everything you've been holding in runs circles in your head and you begin to wonder what you've done to deserve this.

That feeling when you walk to the garage, a mixture of metal and polymer in your grasp as you sob on the floor of the cool garage floor as you rack a round into the pistol that now decides if you give into that feeling or you deal with the pain of fake friends, lies, pain, pressure.

That feeling when you put the cool barrel up to your chin, your finger blessing the trigger with your touch.

That feeling when you hear a bang and it isn't the gun, it's your parents that have walked out to see you.

That feeling when you drop the gun and run into your parent's embrace.

That feeling when you realize they are standing over your body as they walk through you.