𝓯𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓮
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It is past 12:00 midnight when I decide to take a break from studying. Leaving my seat, I make my way outside the glass doors, greeted by the cool night air.
At the top of this building, I behold the city lights from the edge. There are soft noises from cars passing by and unidentifiable buzzing in my ears. I let my senses free as I inhale the polluted air, simply living in this moment with serendipity.
Living... Sometimes I wonder what the hell I am living for. It is a mockery since even if I don’t know the answer to that, I still push on this path filled with uncertainty every single day. With no breaks. Not even a breath to reflect on myself. Well, I’m too tired to ponder over anything about this life I’m living in.
Clasping on this hard barrier, I peek down to the empty street below. One or two people are crossing over, the light from the convenience store attached to this building illuminating the concrete ground.
Nausea washes over me like small waves. This feeling, when intensified, must be why there are people who are afraid of heights. As for others, this can be a compulsive urge rather than fear. One that prods you to jump off and end the life you have.
I can definitely do just that at this moment. I can climb over this edge and release my footing. Simple as that.
That way, I can end this barren will inside of me, leading me with no sense of purpose or passion to burn any kind of desire. I do things simply because I have to and nothing else.
What will happen if I die? I imagine my parents becoming devastated and my siblings, I don’t know, maybe the same but to a lesser extent. They are not mature enough to grasp the depth of losing someone. But I’m fine with that. I don’t deserve to have someone mourn for me anyway.
Will I miss my family? Perhaps. I have a lot of precious moments with them and problems that I faced with them by my side. You can say that I’m attached to them to the point that I treasure them more than my faith with God. For that, I’m deeply grateful to have lived my life with them. I won’t have any regrets leaving them in this world. I won’t be losing them; it’s the other way around. Despite that, they will do well without me. I’m sure of that.
How about my friends? Will they be sorrowful of my death? I like my friends and give them higher regard. They are a few whom I can trust and somehow rely. But I have no high expectations, so I won’t either feel hurt or disappointed when the time comes.
What about all that I’ve worked for? Those years of growing up, studying hard in school, making friends, getting along with people, building memories with my family, and much much more... should I just throw them away like they are meaningless to me?
Once dead, those won’t matter. I will be no more in this earth, not existing but at least not forgotten altogether. Surely there is nothing that will come to me after my last breath. Life and salvation after death? Entering the kingdom of God? What do they mean by that?
Should I just die? I close my eyes, bracing myself. Then I open them.
No, not today.
I turned around and went back inside.
