Had another dinner with the prominent lady the other day. We talked. and a portion of that talk was silence, as I pondered on how to translate my thoughts and express it into words. The other portion was me explaining the problem I've been facing, the whole time I was gone and how I had presumably deteriorated morale-wise by everyone around me.

I still hadn’t fully understood my problem, but I tried explaining how I saw it. The problem in how I reason, and the problem in my mind and how I treat myself. After a bunch of stutters I did manage to get it out. She listened. And she listened thoroughly. I made it out in the way she was silent the whole time I talked, and how she would nod now and then occasionally.

She was pretty the whole time. I kept having my glance at her the whole time I talked, and when I listened to her when she’s talking. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, and her gaze struck like a cupid’s arrow. Then, it felt as if the whole world had ben cut to be only at our table. There’s nothing else that matters in the world other than the conversation we were having.

That day, I opened myself to her, to things I would’ve refrain from saying had I wanted to keep a good image for her. I gave her the documentation I’ve written of my suicide thoughts.

On the way back I intentionally led our talk to how she sees our confusing and unclear relationship. She tried to avoid it, but I asked her again. Eventually she never did answer my question, if I’m not mistaken. It ended up with me telling how I see the relationship: which I told that I feel that it doesn’t matter how we label ourselves. Friends, lovers, siblings, whatever. As long as I can love her wholeheartedly.

I drop her off on the alley leading to her house. I gave her a hug, and said to her that if I die, I don’t want her to cry. This is because, the way I see it, when I die, I wouldn’t have died in remorse or regrets. I would die in peace. I would die complete, having gotten what I wanted. I wouldn’t haunt her, should I have the ability to.

The reason I hugged her was that I already planned to take my life the night I got home from the date with her. I’ve been planning it since the day before. I’ve already imagined taking my sleeping pills and sleeping peacefully in the air-tight room that I would’ve filled with smoke beforehand. It was the original method, helped with medication that would keep me in peace.

But our dinner went a little off-course from how I intended. I thought that she would not care when I told her about my attempt. But she did. And as it turns out, we would make a promise. A pinky promise where I wouldn't end my own life, or else I would be seen as disrespecting the friendship I’m having with her.

Now that I think about it, that hug could have been the last talk I would ever have with her, had we not made that promise. But then I imagine her. How scared she would be, and how disappointed she might be. She would be traumatized and as it turns out it might be more damaging to her than it did to me. I imagined it would wreck her life and the way she makes friends.

I decided to stop making attempts. With her in mind, with her to keep me alive. At least for now.