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Final countdown, my dear

I'm afraid of dying but suicide never leaves my mind. See you up there. I love you <3

22.04.2014

Hi Angel

          Do you know why I count the days in the letters, since the very first? It was sort of a challenge with myself. I wanted to see how many days I would be able to survive since the second anniversary of your death. Like a final countdown backwards, because I didn’t know exactly how many days I would make it.

          I was suppose to only explain this on the last letter but I decided to tell you now. Because I’m gonna stop counting. 

          Don’t worry, this is not a suicide letter. I’m not gonna kill myself after this or anytime sooner. Actually, I’m gonna live. Or, at least, survive. But it’s not the same ‘survive’ as before. This time I’m gonna fight harder than I’ve ever fought.

          I’m finally noticing some improvements. I’m recovering, Angel! What I’ve always thought that was impossible is happening! For real!

          I haven’t cut myself for over a month. The bruises that cover my body are healing, fading, leaving nothing but scars behind. But I won’t look at those scars as a curse, something that labels me as ‘weird’ for the rest of my life. I’ll face them as battle scars, evidences left from the war I’ve fought against myself and my demons. I war that is not over yet and won’t be over any time sooner. But now I know something is changing. This time, I’m tho one who’s winning.

          I don’t know if it is either the antidepressants or the letters I write to you which keep your soul alive just for me or even the good things that have been happening to me lately.

          The past few days have changed something about me. I guess that’s what happens when you stop for a minute (or three days, that works too), look back and meditate about what happened to you so far and how you reacted to all of it. I did it. I stopped. I had fun. I met new people. I walked away from who’s always around me. I got out of my bubble. I lived.

           I came to the conclusion that there’s a chance of me being the cure to myself. Does it even make sense? I just feel like I’m facing things, people, life, in a different way. More positive. I guess I’m just tired of depression and emptiness and sorrow. I’m making an effort to back off of my demons and just live.

           And help me God (or you, if you can)!

           Forever yours

                                                                                                      me

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