Hello there tumblr. It's almost like talking to an old friend again for the first time in years. A simple website turned into a diary that I wrote hours into the pages, some days those pages even wrote me. I was 14 year old when tumblr found me one dark and lonely night, a suggestion for an outlet by an old friend. Someone thought enough of how I was feeling, to suggest a place where my dark thoughts, long nights, unheard thoughts, sweaty palms, and aching heart, would have their own safety. I guess the thing I didn't account for was that some silly website would outlive the very person who brought it into my world. That I'd be back here some 9 years later, feeling just the same way I did at 14. Who would have thought, that returning here to once again spill my heart like blood soaking the pages of a book only I'd ever read? How silly. Returning somewhere that isn't physical, but the only place that feels like home. Logging in feels like keys jingling against the front door in the dark as we slink inside. Seeing things I'd written on the good days, feeling like taking off my wet shoes and leaving them beside the door. Scrolling through the most insignificant things I'd reposted, simply because they made me laugh, is the feeling of taking off your coat and placing it on a hook next to the door, and feeling how warm and cozy the house is. Although, not every home is happy and those moments come and go. Reading the things I wrote on the bad days is like hearing your parents scream at eachother at 8 years old in your room with your hands over your ears until. Reading about all the emotional damage I did to the soft and sweet 14 year old me, is like cutting your feet on glass after your father throws a cup of coffee, blood tricking from your foot as you run fingertips along the wall at the bottom of the stairs, wondering what could have been so bad. Sometimes coming home just isn't as comforting as it should be. There are days when coming home means it's because you're on hospice there to die where you're most comfortable. I guess I should be going into more detail, considering I came here to talk to myself, because there is no one to talk to anymore. Ive simply run them all away. Ah wait there it is. The thing that keeps bringing me back here."I've simply run them all away." Sound familiar tumblr? Sound like anything I've said here before? Down right deja vu here for me.

Sweet girl I know you've had this thought before, but let me ask you when is the last time you felt this pain sober? I mean honestly. When's the last time sober you came here to try to avoid openly saying how badly you want to end your life. Not disappear. Not start over. Not run away. But just simply die.

ISNT IT SCARING YOU THAT YOURE THIS CALM SAYING THAT YOU SOBERLY WANT TO END YOUR LIFE?!

Stupid question because even asking myself that question. I'm not afraid. Shockingly it isn't even because I think I'd see him on the other side of this life. It's because I failed to understand in all the things he said to me in those days. Now I get it. I get why he didn't wanna smoke with me and why taking a drink was simply unheard of in his final thoughts. He wanted to be entirely clear minded when he took his life, I get it. The peace that a sober thought of not being alive anymore will bring is terrifying but so so so calming. Just understanding that those thoughts shouldn't cross your mind with a smile, and the genuine happiness the thought brings me is absolutely disgusting.

But here I am again.

They say "think about in ten years when.." but it's been ten years and I'm still thinking and hoping that I'm gonna wake up and be happy I survived. I'm waiting. That feeling won't come if it hasn't already. There are some things you just softly come to terms with as you cry alone in a room with a house full of people.

Some days will be harder than others but your day will come where you will finally have the courage to pull the trigger and bring yourself peace.

I think I'd like the background of my death to be highlighted in sad Taylor swift songs.

Play the saddest songs at my funeral, that's the only way anyone will cry over me.

Who am I kidding, I don't even think my mom would come. My dad wouldn't be able to bring himself to come. My sister won't even be able to get herself out of bed, and my other siblings will probably not even know.

I don't want them to bring my kids though. I would probably rather they think I just abandoned them. They would be better for them right? I don't know.