It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
He would never be enough. It's why everyone always left. For as strong and proud as claimed to be, it wasn't the truth. Simply a mask he wore, fooling everyone but the one that needed it most. Himself.
If he could lie to his heart, fool that tricky organ that he wasn't in constant emotional upheaval, then maybe things would get better. Maybe he wouldn't constantly think about putting Ebony in his mouth and swallow a bullet. He knew his guns could bring an end to his misery. To anyones pain.
So many lonely nights he had thought how to tell everyone. He couldn't take it anymore. That it needed to end. So tired of being lonely and left behind. Still that crying child sitting beside the rubble of what was left of his childhood home.
It wasn't fair. Why was he always alone? Even when he was surrounded by the people he cared about. He felt encased in a shell. Locked off from their touch.
Making his decision, he set aside every last belonging he had. Everything had a place. Tonight he was pushed over the edge too much. It couldn't be helped. Seeing the date on his cellphone, he set it aside and made move to sit on the floor in front of his bed. Dressed in only his boxers, he drug the blade of a silver dagger along old scars. Cutting deep this time, feeling the flesh tear so easily, he let out a sharp gasp.
Letting the blade hit the floor, he slowly laid down on the ground. Shivering as he bleed out. It wasn't anything dramatic. It was simply his way. Pale blue hues dimmed, dilating as he began to hallucinate. Remembering that horrible day. His Mother's passing.
Shuddering, a ragged cry fell from his lips. Slowly, the darkness began to rim around his vision.