To my dear friend, Chilette.

I was out at the balcony of the 38th floor. Discerning how my fear of heights could overcome my desire to jump. I took my time, feeling the air, watching the view without my glasses. I saw the cars, so tiny, passing by down below. I saw the buildings and wondered if anyone sees me from there.

I got myself a stool. It’s a small one, more of a stepper than a stool. I lifted myself and was a bit higher than the baluster. Beside me was my green bicycle. I stepped on it, raising my body even higher. I held on the balcony door for support. I was still deciding to die. It would have been funny to have died of an accident when there was nothing I wanted more than to be in control even if it means taking my life just because the world says I should not. I reached on the top of the door. Felt the soot and unintentionally left black fingerprints on the white side panel of the door. I felt a lift again. My hip touched the hand rail. What a tall baluster they have here. And there I sat. My back against the wind. I was not ready to turn and face the other side of the balcony just yet. My other hand groped on the rail and felt that soft breeze. Little by little I was starting to turn away from the balcony door and was finally able to lift my right leg. My short leg on the rail. The height was still daunting but with my every inch of movement, getting closer to the edge, I felt a bit happy. My tears were interrupted with moments of calm and sometimes pride that I have brought myself closer to what I had felt too restricted to do.

I was decided not to end my life here, now. I can almost here him say, “Why would you do that? This is MY place. I will be the one who would have to answer to your actions. Why would you subject me to that?” Can’t help but concern myself too with his concern about what other people would think about him.

Another reason, I made a promise, to my brother and a past love, that I will not kill myself. I saw their fear and imagined their hurt when they saw me in that situation before. I gave that promise again. I had to. It was the only way for my love to not feel compromised, blackmailed. I guess I would have to find a creative way of ending my life without having the people that I love feel that they are to blame. Because really, they are not.

But being  high up there, staring at nowhere, waiting for that whisper again to convince me to just let go, it was real. I felt real. I was connected to who I was. I allowed myself to feel what I was really feeling. It brought a smile. The promise of relief was almost too alluring. I was a few inches away from not feeling any pain. I knew I could do it. I am so close to saving myself from what I am feeling now.

I was hearing Maria’s song… “Out here on the ledge. I’m not far away from stepping off. I finally picked up my cloud. It’s the one over there surrounded by all that air.”

I had been reminded again that no one, NO ONE, no one would understand me. And if they can see who I am, how shallow I am, they will not want me. People will walk out on me. Some might come back but what for? To see if they can take the challenge of me? And then realize they cannot? And it is all right. I do not need people. I just do not see the need to live either. And it is not a bad thing. Why would I live to trouble people? Why? There’s enough bad in the world why challenge them some more?

Chilette, you are my friend. I do not expect you to understand exactly how I am feeling now. But I know that you understand my need to just have someone to listen. I wish that you will not be scared because of what I said above. If you are, I am very sorry. That is definitely not the intention. I promise you that if ever I finally decide to die, it would be a decision that I would do with peace in my heart. It would have been the most glorious choice of all.

For you see, I’m lazy and I’m tired. And yes, I must be most selfish. I’m not too emotionally smart to get through this like I hoped I could. If I were stronger, I would have been more confident in offering myself to be in a relationship. But I’m not and I wish I could let go of people now, spare them the agony of watching me ruin myself despite everything that they do for me. I do not want to cause my family more damage than I already have and our odd circumstances in the past have; and my love, when he himself is too fragile already with him being young and lacking too in the head. As for my friends and past loves, they will get over it.

Not today…

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