Would anyone notice my absence? I mean, really? Outside of being spared my constant and unpredictable mood swings- each one worse than the last, my hyper-critical nature stemming from long-standing OCD which used to make me scrub my skin until it bled, and my childish abandonment issues there's really no other qualities of mine that stick out.
This isn't chemical.
Maybe it is.
But that doesn't mean it's not "real" and that these emotions don't have some solid, inherent basis.
Sometimes I find myself thinking about death, what it feels like. Maybe it's like warm, thick velvet, enveloping you until you can no longer breathe. It wraps you up like a soft, unventilated cocoon; then you're reborn in this new place where you feel beautiful and necessary.
Or maybe it's like an enormous bucket filling the room you're in with turpentine. The unavoidable sticky, sickly-smelling blackness swells upward and you're struggling to escape it. Until you just finally accept it.
They say that animals (and humans) are frantic until they've resigned themselves to death. When they realize they're going to die, they grow calm. They stop fighting. Maybe they get this faraway look in their eyes, showing that they've already made the choice to float away before the final, fatal blow has been delivered.