🖤💫 Sample: Cathartic Release
TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING: Death, bittersweet angst, assisted suicide. Please, read at your own discretion. If you don't feel as though you're in a place to be able to handle darker topics, please prioritize your wellbeing and keep scrolling 💙
💬 1058 Words | Til’ Death | Devoted Lover | Suicide & Implied Suicide | Grief | First Person | Comfort in Angst
The world was never made for me. Its hidden dangers, its deafening noise, its relentless demands- I had carried them all, staggering under the weight, until I could carry no more. Each day was a new reminder that I didn’t belong, that I was an anomaly in a place too cruel, too vast, too indifferent. The world spun on, uncaring, as I crumbled under sorrow’s grip and terror’s unyielding claws.
I had tried to fight it for so long, clinging to fleeting moments of light, to the rare breaths of calm that made the storm seem bearable. But the storm always returned, fiercer than before, and I grew tired of resisting. Each failure, each physical and mental scar, each night spent choking on silent sobs pushed me further into this decision, until it no longer felt like an option but an inevitability.
But him- he was the exception, the only good thing this twisted world had to offer. In his arms, the noise dulled. His voice was the only sound I wanted to hear, his touch the only anchor I needed. He had seen me at my worst, when the weight of simply my existence had threatened to crush me entirely underfoot. He had held me when I’d screamed at the world, when I’d begged for silence, when I’d told him what I wanted, what I needed.
And through it all, he had stayed. He had never flinched, never faltered, never turned away, no matter how broken I became. His love was steadfast, an unshakable force that defied the very chaos of my existence. It wasn’t just love- it was devotion, so deep and unyielding that I knew he would follow me anywhere. Even here.
We had spoken of this moment so many times, in the quiet hours of the night when the world felt far away and it was just us. I had explained my choice, laid bare my reasons, my pain, my exhaustion. And though it had saddened him- I had seen the anguish in his eyes- he had understood. He had held me close and whispered that he would never leave me, not even in death.
Tonight, that promise would be fulfilled.
His hand rested on mine, warm and steady, grounding me. He always knew when my thoughts grew heavy, but tonight, there was no need for guessing. Deep down, he’d always known this moment was coming; we both had.
His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling despite the calm he so desperately tried to convey. His dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw fear there. Not for himself- never for himself- but for me.
I nodded, my lips curving into a faint smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking under the weight of my words. “You deserve so much more than this,” he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“And yet, this is all I want.”
There was a stillness between us then, the kind of quiet that only existed in moments where words felt too small to hold the enormity of what was about to happen. He reached for me, his touch tender, cradling my face as if I might slip away before he was ready to let me go.
“You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice breaking.
“I know,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his. “That’s why I chose you.”
The knife that had been sitting on the floor beside us felt cold as he picked it up, its weight seeming unnatural in his hands. He hesitated, his eyes locking with mine once more, searching for doubt, for hesitation, for anything that might stop him. But there was none.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said, his voice somehow both wavering and firmly reassuring. “Every second, until the end. And after that, I’ll find you.”
“You don’t have to find me,” I reminded him, a faint smile touching my lips. “We already agreed, remember? You won’t let me go alone. Not even death could separate us.”
His breath hitched, and he nodded. “Not even death.”
For a few more moments he simply gazed at me, taking in the sight of my living, breathing form one last time.
“I love you,” he said, his voice steady now, though the tears forming in the corners of his eyes betrayed him.
“I love you too,” I replied, my own voice calm, resolute.
His free hand caressed my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin as he tilted my head up, my lips meeting his one last time. Then came the sharp stab of the blade, and I gasped, though not from fear. The pain was fleeting, however, replaced by a warmth that spread through me like a balm.
Dropping the knife, it clattered to the floor as he moved quickly, carefully, cradling me in his arms as the world began to fade. His touch was gentle, his lips pressing against my forehead, my cheeks, each kiss a promise of the devotion that had brought us here.
His tears fell freely now, warm against my cooling skin, but his hands remained steady as they stroked my hair and cupped my cheek. The darkness crept in slowly, blurring the edges of my vision, but I could still see him- his face, his commitment, his adoration, all of it etched into my memory as the last thing I would ever see.
“You’re free now,” he whispered as he held me closer, his grip on me never wavering. “No more pain, no more suffering. Just peace.”
The darkness crept in slowly, but I wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. I closed my eyes, his heartbeat the last sound I heard, steady and unwavering, even as mine faltered.
As my world began to fade, I remembered the promise we had made, the vow we had whispered in the quiet of another night. He would follow. He wouldn’t let me go alone.
The last thing I felt was his kiss against my temple, his hand clutching mine as though to remind me that he would be right behind me. And in the final moments, as the darkness took me, I felt no fear. Only love.
And I knew, without a doubt, that I wouldn’t be waiting long.
