Exactly one year ago today I wrote out my suicide note. Most of my belongings had assigned future homes and I was begging everyone not to hate me for doing it.
Loneliness is a fucking bitch. Heartache is crippling. Mental health is a serious matter.
It’s been a year.
My life is wonderful. There are some setbacks, but we just go with the flow. I’m happy. I’m madly in love. I’m humbled. I’m alive.
I’m very thankful.
A lot has happened in a year. In this year. I’m happy I stuck around to see it through.