Questions in front of me. A zillion questions. Whether I wanna live life this half zillion ways or the other half a zillion ways. And expects me to choose one way out of them.

Frankly speaking, I’d rather die.

I am done living. And I’m sure that it can’t get any better. I have lived the best years of my life, and did everything good and interesting that I could possibly do and lived as happily as it can get in my whole life.

All these years have been wasted when I look back now.

I have never been a good daughter, sister, friend or girlfiend.

I have destroyed my parents’ dream of me being successful.

I have never done anything thoughtful for my brother or never appreciated his immense love for me.

I have never had a good friend, and never gave a chance to many good people who came my way, simply because I didn’t care enough and went after people who didn’t care about me.

I have let down my boyfriend many a time, not being able to give him peace.

And now, after this confession, I’d rather take a blade and cut deep into my vein and let my disgraceful blood flow and hide itself beneath the sod, and my body buried deep close to hell itself.

But I am afraid to die. Not that I don’t wanna die. But scared to do it. Therefore, I still live.

This time, not even hoping to be a better person.