Diary Entry 1- The First Reason: The Edge Is Welcoming and Enticing

This serene blue, expansive sky is a contradictory thing to this sunken, withered heart, long drowned in this water that never stop rising.

Every day, at my break time, I would sneak up to the school roof, stand near the railing, sometimes leaning forward on it with my elbows and look down at the impassive grey brick ground, and stare. Occasionally, I would lean forward just a bit more, and I could feel gravity pulling me, like how Marcus would pull me to the ice cream shop when he saw one. It's such a small force pulling but it's the small things that count in the long run.

Just like how my thoughts of death may one day convince my hands to let go of these railings.

There's something fascinating about death. It's a black hole that never stops taking people away and we are their escapees, desperate to live another day and experience life to the fullest. Death is like the dark, existing after the light of our life extinguished, where they eventually will take us into its dark abyss, unbeknownst to the living of where we are.

Few of us will be willing to go next to that black hole and fantasize what will it be like to be in there. There are even fewer who will think that after death existed a certain peace that life can't give anymore.

I step backwards from the railing, and avoid looking at the ground. The temptation always gets the strongest at this moment.

I imagine that there's always a moment before landing into death's hands, that free-falling moment where my hair will be combed by the air, and I will feel the wind dance across the bare skin of my hands and subsequently my body. And at the end of it, it will be the sound of my body breaking, bones crushed and flesh smashed, and it will be a symphony of a death parade. It will be painful, I can imagine but it will also be liberating. A minute of pain before death is a good deal for an escape of perpetual pain, darkness—

And drowning.

Every day, every minute, I wish for peace. Just a moment that I don't have to feel like I'm useless. Just a moment that I don't have to feel like there's no way out from feeling this shame, guilt and loneliness. I took the peace in my younger self's heart for granted and never learn to treasure it. And now that I see everybody's natural smiles and happiness, and I'm standing at the other side of the glass, as if I'm watching a television that showed a fantasy dream. One that is meant to be imagined but not experienced.

I grip onto the railing, trying to hold back from whatever my heart wants me to do just for a moment. It's these moments that are crucial and important and if I can hold on a little longer, I will not feel it as strongly later on. I just have to hold on.

My tears well up but they refuse to fall. Guilt dominates the other feelings as it taunts me about what will happen if my parents know about these thoughts, these feelings of mine. They will be ashamed of me. Only weak people would feel like dying.

The sky is still a serene blue. It's still too high up.

And I turn away from that railing, just like the previous times. I always wondered afterwards about how did I convince myself to leave that place again and again. Maybe I wanted to give the light another chance; maybe I was grasping at the last straws, knowing the finality of my decision.

But I always walk out of those moments with the same heart and a weaker will.

One day, this will is not going to enough to hold me back from that gravity.