The Girl who loved writing suicide notes…
Yes! you read it right, That’s how simple and complex it is . Ain’t it? I always wanted to keep this as the title of My Autobiography( If there’s going to be one). If you see my cupboard inside my room and inside my mind you’ll see it constantly being flooded with notes.. suicide notes.. some unsent, un-posted suicide notes. How I love them rather adore them are beyond your comprehension, they were there when none else was, perhaps I did not need anyone to wipe the tears off post midnight when nightmares crawled inside my blanket or the number I dialed was not answered, because they were there under my pillow inside my broken reality. Fast forward to 2019, The chamber of my therapist, I entered and began describing my self “ I am at the verge of falling down forever , Can you save me? I can let you read my unsent suicide notes, you’ll find my story there, Shall I?” I can still remember her baffled expression… Did I make sense then? Do I make sense now? I don’t know But I would like to believe that “Yes, You do, In fact you have never made more sense before”. Because Today as we, the society, The mankind is crawling at the edge, some knowingly or unknowingly are taking their last breath and hardly have a minute to write their last notes.. ‘suicide note’s, I choose to write my stories, I choose to open the cupboard and unleash my pain, The stories of the girl who loved writing suicide notes.
