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Kurt Cobain

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What do you put in a suicide note?

What can you really say to explain why you ended your life? How do you make your parents, friends, loved ones understand?

I could tell them why I did it. I could explain that each day, that little gnawing black part in my heart grew larger. That each day I would wake up and lay in bed for a few extra minutes, mourning that I had made it through the night. Each day I would nod and smile and laugh and pretend to be alright while I itched inside, trying to crawl out of my own skin.

I could tell them what happened to me, but what would be the point of that? So they could remember me for what happened instead of who I was? No, I guess that wouldn’t do any good.

I could reassure them that it wasn’t their fault. I didn’t do this because Mom cared more about my brother than me, or because Dad came home too late and too tired to really figure out who I was. I don’t think it would help.

I could write something poetic. I could compare my life ending to a candle being snuffed out, or embers slowly fading from red to black. But nothing about my life has been articulate, so why should my death be any different?

I could tell them what to remember me as. I could paint a portrait of a giggling young girl, full of life and ease and carelessness. A nice portrait, a false one. But I’m sick of lying; I can’t stomach the taste anymore.

I could give them each a personal instruction, things to do in my absence. Mom, don’t forget to keep up my garden. Dad, Joey hates football, stop making him do it. Joey, don’t give Mom such a hard time. You may not appreciate her now, but you will when you’re older. I could say all that, but it sounds like I’m going away for a year and coming back. And I’m not.

I could tell them the truth. I could tell them that life got too hard and too painful. That every day, no matter where I was, what I was doing or who I was with, all I could think about was what happened. It ate me up from the inside until I was gone and the shell remained. I could tell them I haven’t been me for a long time. I could tell them the truth; I could tell them I gave up.

What do you write in a suicide note?

I’ll write the sincerest thing I can think of.
I’m sorry.




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