I don’t believe in the word ‘goodbye’ and cannot relate the word ‘end’ to death. So to me the word ‘death’ has no synonym. It was not long before I died that I had written the suicide note. If I remember it was just two days before it all happened. Why I say this is because my suicide notes do not live long. But for the first time it did when I addressed it to him. Have I not told you how I secretly wish to die on a day when it’s raining? Like my birth, let my death be on a rainy day. This I could chose unlike the other.
That day I asked him “do you by any chance feel this is going to be the end of world?’
I heard him laugh honestly as I stared into the raining sky. After a long pause he told me in a rather serious tone “yes, I do feel it sometimes”.
It was little of the answer which left me without a clue to wonder. Let that be. I was only running, distracting myself from thoughts of the ever-tempting death. Was I depressed? Was I foolish? I never knew. I only knew that had I waited for another rainy day it could be a year and even years. Wouldn’t that be late? Rather too late?
What can I leave behind? Memories? A blog? Some photographs? Some cookery books? A collection of body creams? Rotten vegetables in the fridge? Some dirty clothes to wash? Some sandals? What? What in fact will I leave behind? Nothing worth anything. Haha! One last laugh at myself.
I went home that evening called up mom over the phone, cooked him a decent dinner, changed myself to my favorite dress, combed my hair neatly, rubbed some fruit smelling cream on to my body, kissed him goodnight and went to bed in peace. I never woke up then.
Now that I am no more, all I wish to say is that death is not as easy as I thought it would be. And did I think it would be an end to everything?