A Confession: I Wished Death Upon Myself

I have something that I’ve been meaning to get off my chest for quite some time. Think this of emo to end all emo.

So, apparently…it has been almost a year since it happened and every single day since then, I actually wished death upon myself. Every single time I wake up in the morning, I’ll be like, “Here I am. What am I doing here? Why not just take me away? You took my spirit my away, might as well as kau tim me once and for all, eh?”.

The fact that is I can’t stand being a sad and lonely after the love of my life left me just like that; through a single phone call. In just a snap, I suddenly have nothing to look forward to in my life again. Out of sudden, there is nobody I truly want to talk and hang out with at any given time of the day as it used to be. There are no more comforting words and supports that would help me pass through difficult times. NOBODY.

My everything gone just like that and that is a hard, man. Really hard.

But then, this always hits me: what good would death brings to me? There are still millions of miles of planet Earth that I’ve yet to see. There are more than 6 billion people that I’ve yet to meet. There are numerous stories to tell. What more important…there are still a lot of HISTORIES and MEMORIES to be made.

Hence, I’m telling myself right now: I’m 28 today, I’m single, alone and lonely but I am OK. I got this. I FUKEN GOT THIS.

So, that is all. The bitchin’ stops here and forward I go. Think I’ve waited long enough.