The other day my boyfriend told me that my suicide isn’t a matter of it but when and he can’t help me. I need help or I’m going to die. He’s been with me for long enough to see the pattern, see it get worse, and can see how it’ll end. 

Honestly? I wanted to hear I love you, I’m here for you, I care about you, you’re a good person and I want you here and you mean something to me. 

This feels like the final condemnation. It feels like the disappearance of the last piece of hope I’ve ever had. It feels like assurance that I’m too far gone. I think it might be. I don’t blame him, he’s a good man and he’s done what he can. 

Regardless, I know my life is coming to a close. I just “feel” it. And so does he.