Love letter/suicide note thread

post love letters or suicide notes that you will write or have written
i guess breakup letters count too

make this a megathread bitches

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Dear L__,
This is a letter I have to write to try and transcribe some of the inarticulable things jumping in and around my chest and throat the past couple weeks. I talk a lot, I talk a lot of bullshit, I talk over other people, etc. But in this case I have been left mostly speechless, none of what I want to express will come that easily or that eloquently. Snake got my tongue, as they say.

I am starting to try and view this all from a distance, to get healthier, sober, fit, so that I can have a point of view that isn’t totally selfish. You need and deserve space. I probably should take some space too. At this point, the break is clear, the distance is already there, and there would be no point in continuing.

I felt hurt by this because I thought we had been so mutually in love, so close, in the past few months. I mean, I felt scared by how much I was falling in love with you before December break, and I felt like you felt the same way. I never totally trust others or trust myself, until I do, like sleeping next to you and entwining tight enough I felt like we were sharing a dream-space. I mean, over break, I felt like I really had a hard time being away from you for even a month. I knew that we were becoming more distant, but I didn’t understand why and how things went from so hot to so cold that fast--I thought we were on the same plane. I still don’t know why. I remember you asking me to not leave you in the dark about things back in November, when we had discussed being poly/having other lovers. And now I’m asking you the same thing. Even though we aren’t lovers, we have been and I want to know what went wrong. I don’t want to end this relationship with an ellipses. I don’t want to drift apart forever. It totally makes sense to me to take time off at this point, but if it’s over for good please let me know. Of course all relationships and human life are processes of breaking down, but in this case I want to locate the break and what caused it. I want to stay best friends forever, but on the other hand I feel like without resolving this relationship and defining it with painful clarity, we won’t really be able to stay friends.

Part of all of this was feeling (even though it was mostly illusion) close to death at times. I mean, last semester I was kind of breaking down mentally but throwing it all into an uppers and downers fueled work routine. And you were there with me and I definitely trusted you with my life. I really am not used to feeling so cared-about or cared-for and you made me feel that way--I hope it was mutual. You kind of saved me from some of the worst breakdown and I’m thankful for that even if I’m breaking down now.

What I’m telling you is heavy, and you probably don’t deserve to have to hear it, but I’m letting you know it because I still consider you my best friend, blood sibling, whatever we called it.

send nudes or I'll fucking kill myself!

just sent that to every girl in my phone

Right now I’m falling apart. It’s not your fault, and that’s not how I want to frame this, that wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m so glad I met you and I hope this letter doesn’t hurt you. The reason I’m telling you all of this is because I think in this case my only option is to be honest. I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but it feels like my neuroses have started to cross over into psychoses--my connections feel fried, and everything feels totally untethered. The world just got swept out from under my feet or something. I always felt like I couldn’t handle “the modern world” and that feeling is starting to press down on me. When I said I don’t trust anybody, I guess I really meant it. This has been happening for a while and I guess I just let it get worse, or just masked it with drugs. And the end of this relationship really made it evident how mentally unstable I am and how heavily I’d been leaning on you.
The madness is ego-dystonic, something that I don’t (want) to identify with, simply something that grew like a disease. Right now my brain just feels a kind of pressure and feverish anxiety, feel pulled in every direction at once, I feel like I’m splattering. It correlates with a constant sense of pressure from all directions or above, like I feel this giant sun or eye or god pressing down on me. I always want to think there’s a logical reason, like stress from mechanical systems squeezing my body, but I’m really being God and persecuting myself, and I am inescapable from myself and backing myself into a corner. I’m glitching essentially. My brain is wired wrong--the error/threat signaling especially. I used to not really believe in mental illness and now I can’t escape my head and it’s a kind of hell. I mean that in the sense that I’m not religious but I now believe in hell or hells, there are many. I guess everyone who trips has learned that. And it’s not always so clear how to get out of them. I had a dream that I became possessed (specifically by a man, but any other would do), and it was a really literal representation of something that’s been happening to me for awhile. My body doesn’t feel like it belongs to me, my mind doesn’t feel like it belongs to me--all my desires and fears are struggling with each other and I’m just clutching really hard and just now realizing that there’s been nothing to hold on to and I’ve just been clenching my fist. Trying to fight the intrusive thoughts is impossible--it’s like wrestling with phantoms, which is why it feels like psychosis rather than neurosis. And I don’t trust anyone--anyone at all. It’s absurd. I didn’t have any great trauma, I always don’t know why I’m so unhappy but I’m unhappy all the time.

I feel so weak and I feel like I’ve failed at being honest with myself and accomplishing what I should have by this point in my life. I don’t feel like an Ubermensch, I don’t feel like I have a singular, unified sense of purpose. And right now I’m trying to be sober not because it will solve all my problems, but because the truest thing I heard at that AA meeting was a man telling me “People are a lot more willing to help you when you’re sober--when you’re using, they don’t want anything to do with you”. I mean it’s true--when I spent that night outside in Long Beach--the time I called you and it cut off because my phone ran out of minutes--I tried to sleep in this donut shop after I bought a donut and coffee. They probably profiled me as a methhead coming down or something and were upset and wouldn’t let me stay there. If I had been awake and sober-seeming enough to talk to them and not seem sketchy they probably would’ve helped me somehow. After all, business is business.
I feel like this noise that’s been building in my head for awhile started to affect you. And all the ways I tried to silence it. I mean, I put on this pseudo-intellectual, extroverted personality, and I sometimes express an acceptable amount of angst, but it’s like the angst is a cute mask for a kind of deeper and uglier madness. I can really easily see how that mental noise, and solipsism could press down on you and make you feel claustrophobic, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I took up your space in that kind of way. And I mean, I’m egotistical and I take up a lot of space, and I feel like I did that to you. I wish I’d been differently. There’s a lot of things about our relationship that I don’t regret, but I do regret the past couple months, when I stayed at your place until you had to tell me you felt claustrophobic (like how did I not pick up on that? I don’t know, I was probably just so desperate for things to work out that I ignored the obvious signals).
I mainly wrote to you because it helps me for you to hear this, and we’re already apart--I don’t have any expectations of you besides the promises we made each other (I think) to always be there for each other in some capacity.

I’m not trying to excuse myself. I have my own shit to deal with. Maybe an exorcism of some kind. Places to travel, work to do--of many kinds. But I want to let you know how I feel right now--give you a parcel of myself as a parting gift. I don’t know how the part will go.

I will miss the way you wake up and look out the window to the world watchfully and restlessly, like a bird of prey. I’ll miss your irises and how in moments of surprise or pleasure they would seem to light up along the bands. I’ll miss your sharp laugh and your quick, darting manner. I still have some of your t-shirts that I need to return to you and I remember wearing them over break and being wrapped up in your smell and feeling alright for a little bit. I’ll miss the parts of you that I didn’t know, too. I’ll miss that I could have explored and discovered more of you and more with you, it would never have been enough. I’m glad that you have secrets, I’m glad I shared some with you, and I’d love to share some more in the future, if we ever have that kind of relationship again. I miss your fearlessness, it was always a clear contrast to my false bravado and made you a really good travelling companion. Remember when I did some heroin and told you I didn’t want to die, while I was laying next to you, and we were listening to Music For Airports? You told me “there’s nothing you can do about it” in the most gentle way possible. I saw you then as someone who has a preternatural capacity for empathy and realization. You were the first person I’ve cried around in so long. Thank you for loving me in a way that I opened up that much. I thought about this a lot, thought about what I’ve lost or what can be salvaged from a relationship like this ending. I started off cynical, feeling like I was left with nothing--I thought this when I was at the lowest point. But really I’m better off from having had what we had. I really didn’t fully believe in love until our relationship. That belief almost faltered after we talked and decided to end things (at least in the short term). But I now believe more than ever. I mean, the suffering and lack that I feel is a sign of love and it’s the sacrifice for feeling something more intense than I’d ever felt, but it’s a worthwhile exchange. The traces of you that you’ve left inside me are still there and will probably be for awhile. I can almost touch them with my fingertips, if I reach in the right place.


I miss you. I’m starting to feel lonely, but there’s a vastness inherent in that and I’ve started to feel that vast loneliness open up to where I can encompass and hold a lot more love. I’m going to be in the back alleys and dirt roads, following the halogen floodlights at the end of many tunnels. I need to get away, but if you ever want to see me again you should let me know.

cmon ppl

bump

To Thelése.

Ohhh yes darling, I love the way you skitter across the floor, the way your legs bend harsh and luxurious... the crystalline gleam of your darling eyes reflecting aeons of cruelty indescribable. ah! Look at those soft, fine hairs, those curling nails. You are large and exquisite, a pantheress of our domain. SO much larger than me!

Let me take you. It will not be long before you do the same for I, doubling my ferocity with untroubled ease. Yes, as I arch above you in the throes of orgiastic climax, you will be preparing for a greater climax to immediately append it - the climax of your own, our twin hillsides of pleasure following the delicate curve of rise and then splitting with my fall - my fall!

EAT ME, BABY! Accept the sacrifice of my proteinous mass! My wine-assed honey: devour my head and abdomen! It is my only desire! Fell me, as you carry the eggs that I hath fertilized! Feed the inklings of our progeny as they stir with my meagre calories! Nature herself does approve of our intersection - we are applauded by the rustle of the trees!

From Dìhach.

Not because I have nothing left to live for—because I have nothing left to live

Love you all,
-bland old kidscad

"Dinner at my place."

haha

P.S.- me no want "2" live anymore

Tfw to smart 2 live.

*attached is a crudely drawn cartoon of man with a veiny brain titled 'Pic related it's me'*

>discussed being poly
>having feelings for her
Stopped reading there kys degenerate cuck

"Suicide Soliloquy"
by Abraham Lincoln

Here where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never knew;
By friends consigned to misery
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’d on earth!
Sweet steel! come forth from out your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My last—my only friend!

There are so many people in my life who I meet, every day. They speak so much and say so little, prattling on about themselves yet I don't even remember their names. Somehow I can't help but remember everything you tell me, to the point where it creeps me out that I'm like this. I guess if you genuinely start to care about someone, remembering things becomes easy.
I remember you always telling me about how inadequate you felt about yourself. "I try to play the game, but my game sucks haha..." You're wrong. "I'm weird" you say as you walk away, "you're not weird" I say back, and you persist "yes I am!" Those were your words, and by the look on your face I could tell you actually believe that. I understand that burden, that feeling of self-judgement in my own life yet for someone like you I can't wrap my head around it.
I see how strong you are. Everyone who meets you does and we're all amazed, because you are amazing. People are always pointing it out to you and I know how goddamn frustrating that can be, because I'm the same way and nobody seems to get how fucking isolating that can be. When I see that toughness you have I get this horrible gut feeling because I know what can cause that in a person's life. I don't know what happened to you, maybe I'm projecting my own shit onto someone else but I hope you're alright. I know for myself that my strength comes from overcoming terrible things, weathering storms. I hope I'm wrong about you, that we aren't alike and that you haven't closed yourself off in strength like I have.
You said you were lonely as you shrunk back in your chair and my chest hurt a little because you're just so fucking fantastic I can't even describe it. I don't want you to be alone. You couldn't be more wrong. Your game is great. It's just the timing and geography of my life and yours that really sucks. It absolutely kills me.
What if there didn't have to be "a game?" What if we decided not to play, to turn around, disregard everyone else's bullshit and do our own thing. You know I think you're incredible, and I know you think the same about me. Hell we've said it to one another so many times. What if you and I, two people who are somehow just so self aware, such insane over-thinkers, could sidestep all of that?
I want to sit with you under those desert stars and laugh about the absurdity of life, about the absurdity of myself, revel in the awkwardness and just enjoy talking to you, truly knowing who you are before anything else. Obviously I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to girl stuff like this, and you scare the shit out of me because you're the only person Ive met in 22 years who I actually feel is worth it. I'm okay with that.
I remember something else that you said to me, "don't become a stranger." If you find someone else and are happy with them while I'm away, I'll understand. I'm not good with distance, nobody is. I don't blame either of us for that. Until we meet again, be well.

I couldn't do it. My friends all hate you, and I would too if I didn't love you instead. I have to go, and I hope you aren't too lost without me. Be kind and patient with strangers, because they can be kind folks too.

Virginia Woolf
Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that—everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.

Do war letters count?

My very dear Sarah: The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more …

I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of the Government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt …

Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me — perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness …

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights … always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again …

This

don't forget to open this first
youtube.com/watch?v=uZmxZThb084

This is no suicide letter, so I'm telling you to kys myself for wasting our time.

The Rutland Girl

Do you remember how we would lie in my bed up in Burlington, watching movies and laughing while the world around us froze? There was one night it February, a favorite of mine that reached -40 degrees. It didn't matter, because you were there beside me. Actually, I think the cold only made me love you more.

I miss the heaviness of your body pressed against my own, the rhythmic rise and fall of your lungs with mine; that slow and intimate dance they did. I miss the push and pull of our breathing as you slept, moving me to tranquility like sea waves. I miss the weight of another person's life bearing down into my own, how with each subtle shift and stir you unconsciously told me that you were there to stay. I miss those small unspoken "I love you"s found in subtle motions.

Before I knew it, I had to leave, the heaviness of you, that realness anchoring us, evaporating into ethereal text messages and Facebook likes. It was not my fault that I got sick and had to leave, that I left you up in Vermont, out in the cold by yourself. Now that I'm somewhat healed, back from death, from what those men did to me, I no longer allow myself to be touched. I hate what they did, how through violations so fundamental, they made my soul ugly. How I hate that I hate to be touched, how it's not my fault that something so essential now causes such pain.

There is nobody in the world I'd want so close to me, nobody except for you. For some reason, even after what happened, it was always okay with you. If all I had was the fire that you are to warm myself by, I think I could learn to touch somebody again. I think it would be okay if the rest of the world were as cold as it was that night in Vermont, so long as you were there beside me.

hi j,

i don't know how you'll respond to this, but i feel obliged to let you know before i (probably) never see you again.
you are a remarkable person. you are so funny. you make everyone else laugh. everyone wants to be around you, so that they can laugh and enjoy themselves. you're sweet. the few times you've complimented the way i dress, or cracked a joke during a stressful point , i feel happier, if only for a little while.
i have had a lot of tough moments, these past few years. sometimes i think in my mind about how things used to be, and i feel very bad. but people like you, with personallities so constantly radiant: it does more to encourage than you could belive. i have felt left out before; i still do now and then. weaving my way through a croud always overwhelmed me, so standing on the outside feels more comfortable. i was comfortable there for a long time. it was just an hour and a half of dumb jokes during those classes: bullshitting, nothing too deep, avoiding all the working, and just laughing again and again--but those times you saw me i was in that lonely place, a place that felt lonely and right, but when i was with you and everyone i remembered how good people can be.
i'm leaving high school this year never having been in a relationship. you're not supposed to care much about those things, but i do. i wanted that feeling. i know your feelings more than likely aren't mutual, but i thought you might've made a good boyfriend. you have a strong jawline. you're masculine and cute. your eyes are great. yeah--you would've been awesome.
this here's to say that i tried. maybe i can tell people later in life about my sole attempt to exchange feelings: all wadded up into a shitty collection of unimportant childish emotions; a fucking letter for christ's sake. who writes letters anymore.

thank you for being nice. you have my number. if for whatever reason you're compelled to follow up, go ahead. and if not, don't. i don't need it. i just wanted to tell you this. i know i'll regret sending it, but i'll regret it more if i don't.
--m

>queer high school angst
>every sentence is abysmal cringe
fucking kill yourself you dumb faggot

Slicing open my wrist veins,
To let go and release all this pain,
Blood pouring out like heaven's rain,
On this world, I'll leave one last stain,

But I don't want to leave a mess,
So I'll take a trip to the suicide forest,
Pitch a tent and meditate on my unrest,
And my failure, never again will I protest.

Or I could jump off a roof or a cliff,
But I don't think it really makes a diff,
Either way I'm hitting the ground stiff,
Bones breaking, face smashing, only if,

I could get the courage to take the leap,
Leave everything behind and all I keep,
I'm not cut out for this world, I'll leave,
No one will remember, there will be no me.

I've irreparably broken my life. I've decided that this is the last option I have left. To stop my breath,to breath no more. I won't have a single second thought as my opened vein bleeds out.

Bad thread.

>mega thread bitches xDDD
Fuck off

I left my water bottle at home again.

...

...

this is beautiful

dumbass i said love letters, breakup letters, or suicide notes.
i can post my suicide note if u want tho

niggas i'm out

Ok I can't read this I'm too much of a pussy

>tfw i have the same name as this guy and had a shitty dad