You Didn't See

This was just something I decided to write as a way of talking myself out of suicide.
Unfortunately, I had to invent a boyfriend for the main character since I don't have one.
Hope you enjoy:


You stare numbly at the wall, trying desperately not to feel. You know that you've changed, you can see that the person you used to be is fading. She will soon be gone, lost in the swirling vortex of your shattered mind. You've planned it all out. There will be only two options. You know that there is no logical reason for feeling this way, but you can't control it.

You remember the way he looked. You remember that all-too-familiar look of lust in his eyes. But you also remember the gentle way he held you, the way his eyes looked when he whispered your name. No lust, just love, compassion, and patience. You remember the way you fought. Yet through it all you love him and you wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him.

After all, that's what this is all about. You're doing this to save him from the pain. You hear the voices in your head that whisper you don't deserve to live.

-Face it, April, you don't deserve him. You never did.-

You can see how much better off they'll all be when you're gone. You can see that you never really had a choice, not really. It was always meant to end this way. You can see yourself swallowing the pills, or filling the bathtub with ice water to numb your wrists before slicing through them, you can see the blood dripping into the water, turning pink.

How ironic. You always hated pink. You were so ambitious. You had dreams, goals, a bright future. You were a young woman who had so much to offer. Now you've become this instead. This pale shadow, a mere imitation of the woman known as April. You wonder if he's noticed the changes, or if they've been too gradual for him to see.

You can see the note you will leave, written on the mirror with whatever you can lay your slender fingers on. You can see your long dark hair framing your porcelain face, staring into emerald eyes filled with disgust. You can see the pain reflected in the unshed tears clinging to ebony lashes.

You didn't see the way he rushed in, screaming your name until he was hoarse. You didn't see the way he cradled your lifeless body in his arms until the paramedics pried him away. You didn't see the sleepless nights he would spend for almost a year wondering how he could have saved you or done something to help ease your pain. You didn't see the way he blamed himself for the rest of his life.

You didn't see that this would destroy him…

…and that was what mattered most of all.