He brought his pack to me. Not in person.
Apologized again, over and over again in texts for how he has hurt me. Let me know that what doctors say about his situation is terrible and he’s not willing to go out like his dad. He’s scared of the pain.
He left me his bank card, everything of value, anything I could maybe use…. and let me know that he made his decision.
I know what that means. We have both struggled with depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts…
We even had a plan. Oh yeah. Suicide is that real for me. My other health issues? His health issues? Neither of us wanted to go out like that. We had plans to help each other through passing when either of us made that choice.
He’s said it before. Made threats. And I didn’t put stock in it because I just wanted him to stay. Tonight? I told him I hope he finds help. I gave him the information for the mental health unit and begged him to go for his own sake.
Tonight? I also received his backpack, left at the desk for me. So I could have his things and drink the big jug of wine he left me to help me get through this while I read his goodbyes.
And his wallet with all his information. So no one can even find ID on him and let me know when he’s done it.
This is fucking with me so bad.