Sometimes I feel like I don’t wanna live anymore, but not because of that run-of-the-mill “I hate life and no one loves me” thing. I want to die so people won’t depend on me anymore. I’m tired of being the support system. I’m tired of pretending I care about your selfish petty problems. I’m tired of “friends” trying to put me on some guilt trip every time I can’t see them. I’m sick of people asking me “Oh, how are you?” when their real intentions are “Oh, let me ask you to do this ridiculous favor that I will never really thank you for”. I’m DONE. Maybe if I kill myself, everyone around me will learn to be independent again. The only thing I’m really afraid of is how the people I care about will react, so I guess I’ll just live with it. Or maybe I’ll run away for a few days?
Or maybe I can live a little. Tell every whiny dependent slug to fuck off and let me enjoy my own company for a bit. I’ll sleep in past 10 and go for a jog and play some video games and spend some of my paycheck on myself instead of others and I’ll sing in the shower and walk around in clothes that don’t fit me very well and apply for scholarships and paint and redecorate my room and flirt with that cute guy from chem lab and read. Oh god, I miss being able to read without interruption. I don’t know if I can do any of these things after death. Guess I’ll live for a bit longer and see if I could find some happiness.