October 26, 2010
As I look at myself in the mirror, I think about what I'm about to do.

Am I brave enough to try again?

Though I have tried many times, I always seem to keep myself from doing it. Because there is always that voice in the back of my mind, whispering, telling me it's not right.

That voice belonging to the one I love, the one who betrayed me.

I once promised him, that if anything ever happened to him, I would be okay and go on with my life… But now that He's gone, there is nothing. No one, to keep me from doing this.

Will that promise be enough to keep me alive?

No. He betrayed me, and now I will be with him, betraying him, breaking MY promise. But at least now, we will be together.

I sit down on the hard wood floor. I look at myself in the mirror. No, I more than look, I actually see. I see us, together. In my mind, I am going through memories. Burning them in my mind. Emptying all of the memories that have anything to do with him.

Our first date, that time he took me on a picnic in central park, gone. Going to see him after school, at his apartment, gone. All those candlelight dinners prepared by his housekeeper Sarah, gone. That last night, out on the bridge in the rain, all gone.

And another memory came, a completely unwanted memory. One I should have forgotten about first.

I saw the funeral. I saw him laying there, none of the usual color in his face, his hair all fixed nice and parted to the side, instead of messed up and everywhere like it always had been.

Now I wanted it more than ever, realizing that I could not just be rid of all of my memories.

I looked over at my bedside table. I knew that right inside that drawer, in an old candy box, there was a gun, something given to me by my father on my 18th birthday by my father, to keep me safe when I moved out of the house. Little did he know it would be the very object to take my life?

I walked downstairs. My throat was dry, I was nervous. Could I do it this time?

I went to the sink to get a drink, my heart pounding. I was suddenly aware of how much I was sweating.

Lifting the cup to my mouth, I took a small taste. I was so thirsty, yet the water was no use to me.

My house seemed so silent; all I could hear was the quiet pattering of rain outside the window. My heels clicked across the ground as I went back upstairs and got into the drawer in my bedside table. I knew right where the pistol was. Inside the empty candy box.

I pulled the gun out of the box and cocked it. Sweating heavily. I held it to my head.
"Forgive me" I said aloud, and holding my breath, I pulled the trigger and fell to the floor.

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