Picture that.

You don't want to die. Obviously. You're still alive, and you got spooked as shit during your suicide attempt when you were really taking a vital risk. I guess that's a sign that deep down you truly don't want to die.

But you don't want to live, either.

Because you don't want a life without the person you love. You can't imagine one. Without the person who was foreshadowed for a year before you even met her, whose pearl, the literal fulcrum of the whole thing, you wear every day and don't plan on ever replacing, and you can't imagine it was all for nothing or that she was meant to be "just a catalyst for your own growth" or whatever New Age bullshit people tell you to try and make you feel better, except it sounds hollow because it is. This poor fucking excuse of a spirituality is like wokeism, it poisons everything it touches.

You can't imagine it's "just your brain" and "just confirmation bias" and whatnot, because you've been in situations where it WAS and it's just totally unlike it. You're both aware the damn thing was real because you documented it in real time, and you're also afraid you're an erotomaniac that has been rejected so many times she's willing to bend reality to, for once, get what she wants. But you also are absolutely terrified of being around your person, to the point you reconsider going to a festival she may attend, because you don't know whether she will publicly attack you again, ignore you like she used to, or be at least polite. 

You also don't want to live because you know that eventually, like people say, "life moves on", and you don't want this. You don't want to "move on". You don't want to meet someone else all the while you don't ever want to remain permanently single. You know that eventually she may be out of your mind somehow, or that you'll find a new person your heart will beat for, but that not only there is a danger of things repeating and finishing you off for good this time, you also feel that in the case she is the one to approach you, your aikane will make it hard if not impossible to fully get into it. That you're, in turn, going to break someone's heart. Someone probably amazing who does not deserve such a thing. 

If any female individual that is not mentally fucked in the head or from a dating app would ever look at you in the first place, that is. Because it's men you attract, or mentally ill women. You don't look the type who enjoys licking a woman's vulva and hearing her scream and have her cum in your face. You look like a dick sucker. Ew. But perhaps you should try sleeping with one. You might like it.

(That was recommended by a bisexual former friend when I was in my late teens, not joking, "you don't seem so lucky with women, why don't you try men"... we are no longer friends for unrelated reasons but this stayed with me, also my brother's bi ex telling me I will go back to men when I'm all grown up)

But you have tried dating a guy (long-distance, but still) in the past and you fled at the minute it was clear you were REALLY going to sleep with him.

But at the same time, you don't want to go back to work. You're loved there. People love you. People love what they see of you, at least, and are satisfied with your work output. But you don't want to be anywhere around this place anymore. You're looking for a new job to try and escape but you're not even sure whether it will work out because while on all your jobs, you did one period and then you were re-hired, and this time you even got prolongated. 

But you know this is a loaded place now, worse than it used to. Your room is your safe place. No one can enter. Your aikane does not live there anymore, so no reason for her to just pop in unannounced. This is, by all means, the safest place. It's yours, sort of. You can just lock it and say, nobody's bothering me. And dammit if you want to keep this space you have to show up to a job you're absolutely bored out of your mind with and you're afraid that the boredom is eventually going to make you unbearable to be around. Even to your warrant officer who loves you.

The mess hall. The snack bar where you collapsed three times in less than thirty minutes. The staircase. You two can cross each other's path. The rest of your heart family, who you will probably wind up disappearing from because you just can't... anymore. You may keep in contact with a few, but you're gone. And probably no one will care. Because no one cares. They will forget you like a gust of wind.

But at the same time, you have this dance group you want to attend. With the teacher so captivating, but also which intensity scares you a little. Rather, the intensity of what you feel when she's in the room, the way you can't look away, yet you wouldn't get into bed with her and you know you don't even know her yet anyway, for all you know she could be honestly terrible. With the dances that made you so emotional at the festival and the recital. You have met someone who may become a friend, after all. A "future colleague". You don't know her name, but you'd like to.

At the same time, this dance group is so close to her. To your aikane. And the thought of her spreading whatever word to whoever she knows and it reaching the group, poisoning your reputation as that of a stalker, is unbearable. Because given what she's known to do, how she attacked you, how delusional she seems to be (correct me if I'm wrong!), you expect even the worst of moves. If she's decided you're a monster, then in all ways you are one. You want to dance, but not too close. You almost want to dance in a group she does not know and is not connected to.

In spite of that, you're not drinking. You've seen Hinano though. Your best friend in joy and tears. The one who nearly helped you die and you regret it because you love her and you don't want this trauma to take her away from you. You've seen her, but you did not feel like buying a can. And there is one waiting for you in your fridge, but you have no idea when you're going to commit your next murder-on-beer-vahine.

Somehow, also, you haven't had a single cigarette since the day a shelf almost crushed you, exactly 39 days ago at the time you are typing this because you'll certainly release it after midnight. (whew, just like your aikane is thirty-nine, how coooool. Fuck dammit.) You don't know why. You haven't really smoked one, when every occasion here called for it.

You somehow also are still not attracted to drugs. To weed, to DMT, to datura (best one to die from!), to LSD, to whatever else you can get high on. Because drugs, what do they do? Make you even worse. Ruin your life for good. And somehow you've never wanted to completely throw it all away. You know because otherwise, you would totally have taken the steps to become a proper drug addict and you might've ended up like Amy Winehouse. I mean you're nearing 27, after all. Saturn return coming, 27 club, white lighters. 

You're not numbing out. You can't stand stupid fluffy shit about how "it gets better" and "take care of yourself" and shit that is putting the focus back on you.

Seriously, back on you? What is there to focus on? The world doesn't revolve around me. I'm part of a collective. I'm part of a story I may be the narrator of, but that I'm not always the focal character of. 

(Yeah, the whole "you are the main character of your story" sounds like yet another of those idiotic platitudes that people have invented... like, no? There's no main character? We have our arcs, but the overaching story has no "main character". And it's certainly not me. I don't want to be, anyway.)

You want to perhaps try and join the air force. Be part of the military for real, without any ties to your father or your beloved aikane that will be a warrant officer by 2027. You want an admin position as you're not the type to go to war, but to stay at home and make sure everything is going smooth. Be the pillar. Except for a NCO, the contract length is. Nine. Years.

Nine years. Fuck. I'm in deep shit for my other life plans if that's the case. That is, reaching home. The islands. If I have to wait until I'm thirty-fucking-six, just... no. Please. 

If I didn't want that though, I'd sign up already. 

Also... you have a cat you love. You have two, in fact. You have a mother you actually trust, even if your history with her is imperfect, but you two were victims of the same man. In different ways.

But you still are in a place where... you feel like life is lobotomized. 

You don't quite know if it's forever gone, if your aikane is definitely toast, or if, as you feel by looking at that pearl, that it can't possibly be this way. That this one is different, even if absolutely gruelling. 

You want to get that tattoo talking about her... about this, contacting Tane, but you may be too raw yet to get something inked on your skin. 

And the best part is, you want to see friends who live nearby while you're here, but you're too tired and you want to see absolutely nobody. 

How am I even still alive is beyond me. I wish I could just turn it off right there and not have to pursue any further, but a third attempt... no. I was spooked enough this time. And given at how I felt I was in a torture chamber at the ER, punished for having tried to take my own life, I'm just afraid the third one would be the fatal one.

More reasons not to.

I wish I could just... take my things and return here for a while. Just to stay in the shadows for a bit... and rest for a proper amount of time.