By the time Dean made it back to the Motel; Sam was gone. A note was placed messily on Sam's unmade bed.
"It's all came spiraling down in the blink of an eye, quite like the way you would twist and turn down a slide that spirals around. The slides that you often get friction burn off but the pain is worth it. The kind of pain that your parents could kiss better, visible pain. Any type of physical pain would be delightful compared to this crippling wave of emotions that is constantly hovering over you, dropping little splashes before it finally comes crashing down; destroying everything in its path. Like the way a tsunami completely engulfs entire cities before anyone can even scream. In this case, you are the city. And you know, there's no getting out.
People use impending death as a threat, "Move and I'll kill you." - things like that. But I cannot keep myself from wondering, are they wrong to use it? Why is death seen as such a bad thing? - I mean, not to sound like a psychopath but I wonder where I'll go far beyond the grave. So only the purest are awarded the privilege to have a little piece of heaven whilst the others are left to burn in hell? From my point of view, most of us are damned to rot in hell so you may as well go fucking nuts and kill some evil bastards.
I can't decide whether I truly wish to die or I simply do not want to live. I think I might be somewhere in the middle. It should be scary to be so far gone , But it's not. I find it hard to talk when I'm in this mindset. That's above and beyond everything else - its a physical thing, like its physically hard to get out of bed and face the world, and sometimes its too much of a struggle to even open my mouth and speak. Not that I can ever find the right words anyway.
People worry about me when they ask me where I see myself in ten years and I don't think before I say six foot under. They take it the wrong way and make conclusions in their head that I'm going to commit suicide in the near future. That's not how it is at all. This will be hard to explain so you'll have to bare with me. All my life I've never really seen a future for myself; don't ask why, I don't know why. Whether I'm going to die in spite of a man drinking a few too many and not taking a cab, or saying something sarcastic at the wrong time. You never really know with the life we live.
Okay now I'm rambling, I just want to say goodbye and that I'm sorry. Dean, please don't blame yourself, please. I love you so much, tell dad that too.
Somewhere along the line everything fell apart in a blur of self hatred and sadness. I've lost who I am and I can't seem to find my way back.
Love always, Sam."
Dean's knees gave out.
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