When nothing else matters

I start missing K again as the soft and hard tones of Alice Cooper's song "Die for you" streams through my headphones. I don't know why I can't feel anything. Suddenly, all my feelings just blew away and left me empty.

It's not just a crush, I'm in love with him. I'm deeply lovesick and every passing day I'm thinking that this can kill me. I'm so scared of acting upon an impulsive suicide that these feelings one day, possibly, in all likelihood, will lead me to.

I'm empty, as sadness hollows me out from within until there's nothing left but a shell. I can't cry anymore, it was months, 7 or 8 months ago last time and years before that. Hell is living without him and I forgot why I'm alive in the first place, if not to be with him. I forget all other reasons to go on living, and that... that is lovesickness. When fucking nothing else matters.

And it's hard just to breathe. Cause every time I breathe in I think of him and every time I breathe out I try to stop thinking about him. Cloud my mind with thoughts on having children instead. Try to make him matter less by shadowing and dulling the thoughts about him with something else. But it doesn't work, not really.

It's like putting on sunglasses hoping the sun will stop shining. Or lighting a candle hoping the darkness will go away forever. It won't. Deep down I know that it won't. No matter how many candles I light, darkness will always be there.

And so will he. Lost in my mind, locked inside my heart, frozen in my soul. The day I let him into my soul I knew he was gonna stay there forever, that it was somehow an ancient form of commitment on only my part that I could never get out of.

I committed to this, he didn't. He's out there, somewhere in the world, miles and miles away and I can pretend that the more time passes the easier it will get, but it won't. It fucking won't, I will end up committing suicide if he never talks to me again. And you know what? It's only my own fucking fault, it was never his fault.

I would never blame him, but knowing that he would likely blame himself if or when I do such a thing, I try to hold on. I try to hold on to this life of endless misery and heartbreak upon heartbreak until I literally can't stand up anymore. Did you know that I've had my heart broken 9 times?

The first and the last was worst. Person A was first and they weren't even real. I fell blindly for an imaginary person and then somehow my heart broke and I hurt so badly. I started cutting myself, had worse dissociations, tried to kill myself for the first time. I was 15 years old.

Last was person T and he was at least real. I literally fell for him at first sight, it took me around 15 minutes to fall to somewhere underneath the classroom floor. I was 21 years old. After he rejected me, I tried to kill myself 5 times the following year and spent about 2 months altogether at various psychiatric wards. I could not be helped.

So believe me when I say, love fucking kills you. If you let it, I suppose. Maybe I didn't have much to live for before I fell for all those people. Men, women, anyone. I count them on my fingers and I have only 1 finger left. Right pinky, will I die when I have to bend you down too?

Cause how much heartache can I possibly take? How much more darkness, how much more insufferable pain, before I finally succeed what I've tried to do 15 times already? It's my rap sheet, my curse, and to love K forever just like I promised myself and all of my stupid diaries.

I can't take much more of this. It's been 36 days and not a word. I'm counting the days, literally. Every morning I wake up I count, 34, 35, 36... for how long? For how long, until I die? I don't plan suicide, I don't want it, but whether I do or not I'm a danger to myself and my pain takes me places I didn't intend to visit. If I die this year, please never tell him that I died for him. I don't want him carrying that burden.

But I'll try, I'll keep on trying to stay strong. It's just a little too much right now and my appointments in Visby are far from enough to get everything said and discussed. There's Anna, school, eating disorder, lovesickness, dreams, parenthood, and I know that the topic of suicide should be first on the list, but I can't make myself mention it.

Simply, I don't want to end up at that ward again with all my privacy robbed and no access to my computer. I wouldn't go freely, they'd have to force me and it could get ugly. But yeah, those thoughts have been lingering their way back to me again, although I try to force them away again. I can't deal, I just can't fucking deal with this.