Just Meandering

*Trigger Warning* There are references to suicide.

Over these last few days of silence, I have filled my days with walking. Not walking with a purpose but in a dream-like state. People ask how I am feeling and I genuinely don’t know. Can someone feel nothing? I get the sensation that everyone and everything is muffled by a distance, a bit like when you force ends of two magnets together the wrong way round and they repel.

Despite my lack of purpose and meandering, I’ve seemed to end up spending time under one particular tree. It is a majestic, old tree of an unknown species. It is beautiful yet all I can think of when I’m there is of me hanging from a branch. It doesn’t disgust me or make me sad, I just picture it. It doesn’t scare me and that is what I find worrying. I know what I’d use for the rope and have toyed with ideas to get me up there. The place is peaceful and meaningful. I guess that I have almost romanticised the idea of death. I don’t know if this makes me depressed, all I do know is that I feel alone.

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