On April 24, 2014, I finally cut open the vein with a razor blade and ended my life.
At the moment of death, all the voices in my mind stopped fighting, leaving only a longed-for peace, as safe as returning to my mother's womb.
I feel life is passing quietly. The memories of his lifetime are like silent movie replays in front of his eyes, shrouded in a certain melancholy, but no longer able to produce strong colors.
"Do you regret it?" I heard a voice ask.
"No... Just, I'm sorry, the person I love and the person who loves me!"