Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or the half-quote "Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun…" I borrowed that from the musical Wicked.
A/N: I know it is short; telling me so will not change its length. If you could, maybe I could get a little constructive criticism? Enough with the flames, guys. Jeez.
Knowing there is no one else for me in this world, I cannot help but wonder; what am I still doing here? My depression is only causing my family pain. Staying alive is not helping anyone. Why did you ask this of me? Why did you ask me to stay safe? I hate that you did. I want to hate you for keeping me alive and miserable. But I cannot. I will never be able to hate you.
My life has become even more dependant upon you, if that is possible. In trying to separate your life from mine completely, you have ensured that you will always be most important. It is not that I am constantly thinking of you; it is the opposite. I am trying to avoid you. I cannot listen to music anymore, or even bear to look at CD's, since music was such a big thing to you. I cannot watch TV or movies, because all the shows involve sports (bad memories) or romance (painful memories). Every little thing that reminds me of you, which happens to be everything since you were my life, has become intolerable. I refuse to participate.
I do not read anymore; I have lost my love for the stories. I do not speak unless I am forced; you are the only one worth talking to. I barely eat; you are no longer here to watch me hunt. I do not sleep well; your presence was the only thing that could calm me.
My life used to be about spending every minute with you. Now, every minute of my life is spent avoiding all thought of you. Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun, I have been drawn to you. The moment I met you, my life ceased to direct itself and my world began to revolve around you. The loss of your physical presence has not changed that fact. I love you, and always will. So, knowing that I cannot stop loving you, I figure I will be stuck avoiding you like this until I die. Which, according you your wishes, will be a long time from now. But if the only reason I am staying alive now is to make Charlie and Renee happy, then what is the use? My misery is torturing them; they do not know what to do with me. I am only a hindrance to their happiness. So, why not just end the pain?