I thought I wanted to die once. Not a long time ago. It was the coldest winter that I could remember. It rained every single day, for weeks. I didn't even count them, because they were too many. And, for many days, you couldn't even have the slightest glimpse of a single star. Nor the moon. Everything looked like this haunted shadowy painting, that would cause anyone the shivers. It was the most severe and lonely winter of all, that I remembered.
And between all of those harsh and impassive days, I really started to felt like this lifeless figure, without any expression on my face. Like a ghost, I thought, after waking up from another dreamless night. And if nobody believes in ghosts, why would anyone believe me?
Suddenly, I caught myself with no desire to live. I felt so lonely, all the time. And not even the massive crowd surrounding me take me out from my solitude. All I could feel was misery, isolation and this deep anguish. As if something was missing inside of me. And I kept trying to find out what it was. But I just couldn't reach a single answer. The days kept passing by... And there I was. Like a ghost.
I started thinking it was the end for me. And I kept imagining this several gloomy scenarios, over and over again, in my head. Me grabbing pills and taking them. First, slowly and gently; and then, all at once. I could really see myself falling asleep on the floor. Sweetly fading away... And no one would save me. Not even a single person would show up and stop me. That was the biggest fear of all. Not dying; but dying completely alone.
Maybe I was wrong. I didn't want to die. I just wanted to be saved.