In the end, it doesn't even matter.
Every time I hear of another life lost to suicide it makes my heart ache. I've been there, tried to do that, twice. I've felt the gut-wrenching pain in my mind and just wanted it to please stop. I've felt like a burden on others, felt like they would honestly be in a better position without me. I've felt it since, but not so intensely that I would attempt it again. I have better ways to manage now than a lot of people who have felt the same. Or maybe it's just because of how I think. But every time I hear about another soul lost to suicide, it makes me grieve a little, makes me consider how the lives of those I love would be different. And that's not to guilt people into not doing it, it's just my own reflection. I hurt to think that another person has gone through that thought process, come to that conclusion, made that decision and acted on it.
Goodnight, Chester.