The promise I regret making the most was one I made to myself. There were reasons- good ones, but all of them had to do with other people. My mother always said that a parent should never have to outlive a child. For some reason, that was the anchor that kept me around. It was a heavy and miserable thing being chained to a place I was through with.

I’d planned out my funeral when I was twenty. It seemed polite. I didn’t want people to mourn. Well, secretly I wanted them to, but really I just wanted them to celebrate my life- the impact I made on them. In my head, I could always see the crowd, people from throughout my life. Classmates I hadn’t seen in years, friends I only had kept for a few months, co-workers from all of my jobs, all gathered together with my closest loved ones. People that never would have met if it wasn’t for me.

I’m not sure what was worse, the continual thoughts of suicide, or the fact that it was indefinitely postponed, my very own sword of Damocles, reflected in everything. Waiting.