Okay. I’ve given myself until my 27th birthday. I’ll find a reason to live, whether it’s genuine love, or just some sort of ambition, drive, determination to achieve a goal, or even to just have a goal in mind. I find this reason to live or I will check myself out.
I know that they say suicide is selfish. Sure, but I don’t really have anyone else to think about. There’s Arthur, the closest thing to family that I have, who I’ve talked to and has told me that if it comes down to it, he will understand. Other than him, there’s no one. There’s nothing else.