All My Love, V
Kansas
I only met you once, 34 days ago. I walked into the party where I only knew one, the birthday girl herself who was not you, but your best friend. I looked around the big table and took the seat directly to your left. You and I were now sitting closer together than anyone else at this party. We introduced ourselves and eventually I sneaked into your story. You were proclaiming your fascination with serial killers, talking about all that you had read. I listened quietly, then eventually shared, tried to explain, what it actually felt like, to stand, be, right where one had once been. I know, I have been, in Kansas. It’s exactly what one imagines while also being, exactly something unexpectedly different. We talked about that feeling, or rather, we tried to explain feeling something that we could not explain to someone else so that they could then know. Now, 34 days later, you wrote me, everyone, about a feeling you had that you could not change but wanted to explain:
“How does one begin, expand upon and then end the last letter they’re ever going to write?” – All My Love, V
“…In the spirit of the modern age, I’ve decided to post my suicide letter as my final blog post. I don’t really know why other people have chosen to leave behind suicide letters. In my case, I’m writing one just to offer a little clarity on why I’ve decided to take this route out of existence instead of peacing out the old fashioned way via natural causes, car accident, plane crash, murder, cancer, etc…”
Kansas
“…My inability to adapt to life’s challenges and assimilate its’ lessons into wisdom, gratitude and optimism have left me psychologically torn, emotionally numb, physically exhausted, and spiritually destitute. I do feel, however, that I gave it a damn good try…”
Kansas
“…I’ve thought to myself, “If I get good grades, graduate high school, graduate college, struggle for my dreams day and night, lose weight, fall in love, make people laugh, love my friends, show up for my family, dance, travel, get sober, pray, go to therapy, take anti-depressants, swim, read, make movies, write books, smile” … then I’ll FINALLY be happy. Fuck being happy, maybe I’ll just feel some semblance of peace, contentment, and gratitude…”
Kansas
“…I feel as though I’m watching from behind a glass shark tank as the world unfolds in all of its majestic glory. I’m just not a part of it anymore. I haven’t belonged to the experience of “living” for a long time…
…I have nothing left to contribute. I wish I did. I wish I’d made more of a positive impact and meaningful contribution to society and the planet before I left it. If I had the capacity to do so, I would stay…”
…I hope that suicide will offer some relief….”
Kansas
“Remember to Orgasm as much as possible!”
Love,
V.”
You found the perfect place, the place with all the details you needed, just like you had always wanted, your will finally let you leap.
– – –
For 18 Stories, You Could Fly