Thoughts of Death

Two days ago a friend of mine nearly killed herself. She cut herself and nearly passed out from the lack of blood. Her mum was almost too late. She almost died. Yesterday was the day that I found out that one of my best friends nearly died, nearly took her own life. To me, that's a day too late. I hate it when people don't tell me what's going on. I hate it. She had to get stitches. I didn't hear a single word of this until yesterday after noon. She didn't tell me until after the fact. After the fact. It hurt. And she wasn't the one who told me. My other good friend told me. She didn't understand why I was so upset. She told me I should write about it. I said no, but here I am anyway. She didn't understand why I was upset that I wasn't told earlier, or at all. When my friend finally told me herself, she didn't understand why I was upset. Why I'm still upset. How would you feel? HOW WOULD YOU FEEL? If one of your best friends nearly kills herself over a guy. Your guy? How would you feel if you could have known that she was going to do something like that, and that you could have stopped her if you had known anything about it? How would you feel if you had woken up that morning and you get a phone call, or you don't get a phone call. If you don't hear for several days that someone you were close to killed themselves? I don't think she understands to the extent of the pain you feel when you find out someone you love nearly died. Lucky for me I knew she was alive before I got told she nearly murdered herself, I would have flung my phone away and cried if they said she was in the hospital and she had lost a lot of blood and they weren't sure if she was going to live or not. I would have died. I would have cried, not gone to school. Not told anyone my feelings. That's how I do it. I don't talk. I don't say anything, I never talk about how I really feel. Or hardly ever. When I do, it's not nearly to the extent that it should be. And people think that's bad. I don't think it's bad, I think it shows strength, my personal strength. It's good. Everyone tries to convince me it's not. But I had a friend nearly die, and I haven't told anyone. It hurts like someone punched me in the guts, and broke my ribs. I don't want to talk about it anymore.
Sometimes, with this blog, I feel like John Watson from Sherlock, spilling my life's story out on anyone daft enough to read this ridiculous thing.
I've decided I don't want to die. But I do want to die. I've decided I want to die. Right now. I wish something bad would happen to me so that I wouldn't have to deal with this stupid planet, full of stupid people, in a stupid universe. Why can't the Doctor come take me away? Why can't I meet Sherlock Holmes on the street? Why can't something exciting happen in my life? Why does no one understand me? Why? Why is the one question humans have been trying to answer for hundreds of years. Sadly, I don't think we'll ever find the answer. I think I want to get hit by a car, or fall off the roof. I won't try to commit suicide, I can't do that. It's selfish, and mean, and cruel. I could never do that. Plus, I can't inflict pain knowingly on myself.
That is all.