A Note To Self: On Suicide

Dear Self,

It is I, you.

We wrote this letter to remind ourselves that we dislike suicide. Of all things, we love ourselves. However, we also love other people. If they left us like that, don't we think it is sad?

And yet, at some point, we agree that if they attempt to kill themselves, then they should have just gone on with it and died altogether. Truly, we see it pointless. We are always relieved that the people we love most are alive, and continue to live. However, it comes to the point when we question ourselves why they did it in the first place, if it was our fault or if we could have done something to prevent it from happening again to our most loved people.

Sometimes we think that if they just died, then they would. They would die. They would fester. They would rot. They would decay. They would be forgotten. And the only ones to remember them would not be us, but the worms who are grateful for their tasty lunch, and the trees who are grateful for the nourishment they provide.

Suicide is a sad, sad occurence. And we, just like anyone else, do not like remembering sad occurences. Naturally, we will forget these people if they kill themselves. And only the things that benefit from their death will remember it. Only the people who are happy that they died will cherish the moment.

But we will not be happy if they would die. No one will ever benefit from someone's self-inflicted death.

We would like the people in our lives to remember that on each day we continue to live. We endure the pain because it will go away. And we share our joys with people we love the most. And so should they. We would like to remind our friends that we love them. And no matter how many people in the world would hate them, that would never match up to the life they lived because we are here to make someone else's life worthwhile, just as they made our lives something more than what it originally seemed.

Self, please be reminded that we want our friends and loved ones to tell us what happened. It is alright for us to hear a sad story about their pains, because we will share a part of us so they can endure it all. We understand that, at times, life is not lived. Sometimes, it is survived. But that is only for some time, and afterwards, we live it as much as a life can be lived.

Simply because that is what we do with lives. We live them.

Truly, dear friend, thank you for reading through our letter to ourselves. We hope we send ourselves a reply.

Sincerely,
You

P.S. I hope you do not take what we wrote in the first part seriously. Of course we do not want them to die[!], silly us! We love them. (It is all-and more than-that we could do for them.)
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<sup>Lately, a number of friends have told me that they attempted to kill themselves. Sometimes, I want to ask them, "then why aren't you dead?" But then, that's just mean. When I'm with them, I worry about the things I should say.

What's worse is that they don't want to talk about things. Or sometimes, they don't tell you for a long time.

Sometimes, they trash their car, ruin a tree, and their children stay at your house for a whole week while they're at the hospital, even when you have school. And you have to endure it all, and listen to them when they cry every night about their mother.

Sometimes, you'll think that it's your fault because you weren't with them.

And sometimes, you keep on worrying on what to do so it wouldn't happen again.

Dear friends, remember that your loved ones understand, just as much as you do, that life is very, very difficult to get through. But also remember that they are affected by everything that happens to you, and killing yourself would be almost as bad as killing them.

And attempting to kill yourself is as bad as stabbing your friend, and leaving them with a scar that lasts forever.

So really, stop trying to leave us on Earth. You'll leave when it's your time, but until then, we're here with you.

Okay?

Okay.</sup>