Gaining the Courage for Suicide

There is a day I was so sad. I had just had a quarrel with my girlfriend and I was so certain that it was the end of us. This had happened to us so many times but it had not dawned on me that she could actually leave for good. On that day I felt like my world was collapsing. All over sudden everything became so deem and cold and it is like she took off with all my hopes, dreams and even the essence of life itself. The whole Friday evening and early Saturday were the toughest of all my days. I tried to look for consolation in keeping high but it just got worse. The reality was so big and it all glared at me siphoning all life out of me.

“Could it be this room?” I started to wonder. And then I made a resolve to get out. To go meet the world as it come. I wanted to get some fresh air, to bond with the world again and get another meaning of being. A walk around the hostel and back was the only idea I came out of my covering with. Saying hi to a few people could do me good, I thought.

This was not a good idea. Walking absent minded I found myself in an avenue way past my hostel. I was walking towards the botanical garden. This path I had waged severally. In most of the instances Sheila was my syndicate and we were in good moods; two silly lovebirds not worried about tomorrow.
The things we used to do on this path: I can still remember when we would race in the dark - On a light note; I won in all cases. Sometimes I would carry the love of my life in my back or we would walk holding hands. These were the fun times as today; I was walking alone, alone in the middle of the road. By the way at some point I thought that maybe people had felt the cold I was carry in my heart and fled and so I wanted to turn.

My eyes were wet with cries and wretchedness for a loss I had not learnt how to internalize. When I was just about to make the first step back I noticed three ladies who come from the same hostel live walking closely behind me. One was Carol Otado, the other two I didn’t know in person so I cannot tell their names. Boys never cry and there was no way I could let them seem my swollen eye balls and wet cheeks. I walked on as they followed. One miter added to another and before I could realize it I was at the botanical garden. The memories of Sheila illuminated and everything became so real. The spots we would seat at, the places we played hide and seek … all these brought gloom I had not experienced in the past two days. I wanted it to end so I inhaled one more strand as I walked on.

Deep and deep into the forest I went, not realizing that my trailers had already turned and left. I kept on sniffing absent mindedly for a number of times that I can’t remember. Then I must have passed out for by the time I woke up it was either three or four in the morning. I am not sure about this either since my judgment was totally not correct. I felt empty. I had disappointed everyone including myself and there was no more reason to live. I was grooming the feeling of not being afraid of death. I wanted to die … but I didn’t since a better part of me was still on the coward leaning end.

This I have thought of because the same feeling keeps coming back and in all cases my fear lessens. I know I am almost there; I know it is my obligation to relieve this broken heart of its misery of loss. I am courageous.