it's been nearly five years. how he missed seeing her smile, hearing her laughter, listening to every single detail of her days since the last time they met. he feels guilty, being given this gift again, but feeling as if it's not enough. but shouldn't it be a normal right, to be able to see his friend?

he's happy for them all, really. he'd rather it be him, instead of them. he'd rather watch them all bloom like the beautiful flowers that they are, and stay utterly wilted himself. he'd rather see his best friends become nurses, teachers, animators, photographers, lawyers. . . all while he stays in bed, and stares at the wall.

he won't eat dinner again, will he? did he even eat breakfast? or lunch? why are you asking when you don't care?

he took the pills like you told him to, and nothing has changed. every time he comes across a mirror, it's still that disgusting piece of shit from yesterday that he wishes would just go away.

how did it even get to this.

who let this happen.

no amount of google searches will help, it's all the same bullshit; and he's so very sick of it.

im sick and tired, please don't love me.

but despite everything, thank you for yesterday. 

thank you for dinner that i didn't eat.

thank you for asking me how i am today.

thank you for the pills that will put me to sleep tonight.

thank you. thank you.

and i can't begin to thank you enough, if you'll let me close my eyes tonight, and never, ever, wake up.