[ WP ] here you stand , alone again , about to take your own life . Nothing is holding you back now . You decide to look around your room one more time until something catches your eye , and the impact it has on you stops you in your tracks and makes you realize why you ca n't do this to yourself .

`` Fuck'' 
 
 Nobody said it would be this cold. I never believed for a second that as you died, your whole life flashed before your eyes. I never believed that you would go to Heaven - Or Hell. Or anywhere. You just stop being. You become a cadaver; meat. 
 
 But that wind just makes me almost deaf and I begin to think of him. Of her. Of the time in the park on Saturday when I found out you were allergic to bee stings. When I found out that I would be spending another year here while you moved on and out of my life. 
 
 Why you could n't wait and take me with you, I will never know or understand. Or even want to. It's too late now. When I was a teenager I heard somewhere that if you fall just right on concrete from as little as six feet you can break your neck and kill yourself. I also heard that if you jump high enough into water - it's like hitting concrete. 
 
 I also wish I had taken the time to figure out if I was going to hit terminal velocity. Did it even matter? 
 
 
 I never got to see Radiohead in concert. Or see the Louvre. Or see you again. You. 
 
 You. 
 
 You. 
 
 You. 
 
 You. 
 
 I close my eyes. It feels like this is taking forever. Is this the theory of relativity in action or is this just my senses being messed up? Spinning and tumbling in the dark now all I can think about is you. I hate you. I hate you so much and you do n't even know. I never even got the chance to tell you. So what does that make me? They say that suicide is the cowards way out - but as the buildings rush up past me and the ground rushes to meet me I do n't think that's the case at all. Giving up all hope is hard as hell. It's even harder to convince yourself that hope is never coming back. That your crushing loneliness is going to kill you sooner or later. Or maybe it's the whiskey, or the cigarettes or the regrets from not just telling you how I felt when I had the chance. 
 
 
 So this is it? I get to have you fill my mind as I stop thinking forever? You of all people? You selfish little baby. How could you do this to me? How could you even dare? How, even for a second could you? How could you do this to me? I realise now, seconds too late that maybe I should have left a note to make it clear. 
 
 
 But it was at that moment that I knew why I could n't do it. Maybe they would say it was because of you. Or Me. Or that new game system, or a pack of smokes. Or the chance to meet Gladys Knight. But I would know. I would never tell, never breathe a word to anyone. 
 
 
 
 Well, maybe to you. One day I would tell you. It was you. It was always you. And even if I never see you again and you move to Nova Scotia and I move to Leeds. I'd tell you. It was love. It was hope. It was just the fact one day at one time you were mine. And I ca n't treasure that where I'm going. Or let you go so I can move on. Now I was being stupid and selfish and a baby. I had to just move on and become someone else. I had to be a new me. 
 
 
 If only for once in my life I was n't on time for something. Or even early. If only. But. It. Was. Too. Late. 

