I feel like the only reason I don't kill myself is because i know that if I kill myself, my online friends and real friends would never know until it was too late I'm so curious to know what they would ever say... Would they spam my messages then eventually stop? Would they ask a mutual friend that knows me irl and would that friend have to break the news? "Why isn't ___ answering?" "They're dead." It's so strange to want to die, because I really don't think I do. Yet, a part of me wants to cease to be, it's large but hidden within me, somewhere. It's large to a point that I can't control it when it pokes, but I can't name it. Is it a feeling of disturbance? Or is it the hatred towards my own flesh? The same flesh I live in but want to escape? I think I ask questions too much.