I want to die.
I'm not suicidal or anything, I wouldn't go out of my way to die. But, if a bus was hurtling its way toward me, I wouldn't necessarily step out of its way.
My life's not bad or anything, it's just incredibly average. I go to my mum's every Sunday for dinner. I sit there while she talks and talks about her Yorkshire Terrier, Bessie, and never pauses to ask how I'm doing. Honestly I could evaporate right in front of her eyes and she'd probably keep going on about how Bessie went to the groomers that morning.
I have a girlfriend who comes over a few times a week. We have sex. Sometimes she sleeps over. I don't think I'm in love with her, but then again, I don't think I've ever been in love, so would I even know? My Nana used to tell me you know when you're in love. It's like being on fire and only the person you can't stop thinking about can temper it. I haven't had that. Nana's dead now.
I hate my job. I work 9 - 5:30pm, 5 days a week as a debt collector. 5/5 days I get yelled at and at least twice a week I get told to kill myself. But that's not why I want to die.
It's just that... my life's unremarkable.
When I was little I'd lie awake at night with my eyes closed, picturing entire galaxies swooshing past my eyelids. I'd tie pillowcases around my neck and jump out of the highest tree pretending I was a superhero.
But I got older and the galaxies turned into dull orbs, and my mum took away my cape the day I climbed up Nana's old oak tree and broke my ankles when I hit the ground.
I can't recall the exact point I decided I wouldn't mind dying. I just remember thinking that the world wouldn't stop rotating on its axis if it happened.
