Suicide wasn't exactly a glamorous thought to deal with. Big. Finishing. Not really wanted. Because there was always a saviour. Someone to call and say "I'm about to do something really stupid, would you please come and save me?" And I would be saved.

This was how I always imagined attempting suicide was like. I don't want to die. Dying scares me. The thought of going to sleep and not waking up scares me. I do want to live. But I want to know someone would help me to simply not die.

It's him, I imagine. Just him, whom I'd call to say I'd fucked up now and could he come hold me while I cried. No one else. Just him.

It's hard to explain why. I don't like to hurt people. That's why suicide is scary enough in the first place. I know they love me. I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to hurt him either. But I want him to know. I could tell him. I could say words. I would probably feel a little better. It wouldn't be serious to me.

I might just have issues with people. Issues with feeling wanted. Feeling needed. Feeling irreplaceable. Feeling like people would actually miss you and not just someone, if you weren't there. I don't always feel needed. I know it's wrong, I know. Knowing is different from feeling.

I need confirmation. That it's true. That it's not just something I've been told. That I thought I knew. That I'm really needed there. I don't want to be nobody. I want to be somebody. Just somebody. Just a small somebody, that a few people need.

I just want to feel like a real person.