It might be hard to believe me, but you will be missed. When I consider this i just really think about how people could be affected- Let’s say you actually decided to do this;
Your younger sibling- a brother for example, is playing video games downstairs after school, but is somewhat confused as to why there wasn’t music playing loudly from your room like usual. They decide to go check on you, walking upstairs and down the hallway, they push your door open, and they forget how to breathe. The person they look up to, the person they’re most closest with in the entire world- dead. On the floor with a bottle of pills in their older sibling’s hand. They don’t know what to do, what to think. They run to your side, tears streaming down their face as they try to shake you relentlessly awake, but you don’t wake up, you can’t wake up. They spend the rest of their life thinking about you, wondering if your death was their fault, thinking all the times you childishly argued over what TV show to watch was the reason for your death.
Your mum, your dad- they’re so confused. They didn’t expect this, they never expected this. Your mum quits her job, sitting around on the couch all day by herself, locking herself in the bathroom to cry. She’d sometimes walk into your room, running her fingers along your bed- which she hadn’t touched, hoping your scent would remain even though it could never compare to your presence. Your dad would stop talking to people, he’d loose contact with reality and wish it was him who died instead. He would spend everyday blaming himself, wishing he could’ve done something more to save you. Your parents wouldn’t ever forgive themselves, they’d never ever forget about you and would spend the rest of their lives missing you.
That boy that sits near you on the bus- the boy at the back of your math class, the one that smiles to himself when you talk- he would miss you. He’d miss seeing your face everyday and he’d regret everyday not building the courage to finally talk to you and tell you how much he admires your stupid puns. He blames himself- maybe if he finally talked to you and became your friend he could’ve prevented this from happening. A few years down the road- he’s still sad, he stills thinks of you, he still misses you.
Your teachers would blame themselves. They’d miss seeing you in their class everyday, they’d miss grading your essays. They’d blame themselves too- did you do this because they gave you too much homework? Were they not reasonable enough? They’d be confused, always having you in the back of their mind, wishing they could’ve helped you in some way.
Your 30th tumblr follower- they’ve been following you forever. You post a sort of suicidal text post, and they get worried- sending you thousands of cute, wonderful messages to try to make you feel better. But you don’t post for a day, a week, for months- and they assume the worst. They miss your text posts and your cute answers to their asks, they miss your presence in the fam and they somehow think it’s their fault- wondering if maybe they’d talked to your more you wouldn’t have done this- but instead they miss you, thinking of you everyday, sending a few more messages to your ask, even though you hadn’t posted for a year- they just continued to hope you were still alive.
And then there’s me, I don’t even know you, but I can tell you I’d miss you. I know suicide seems like it can help, but let me tell you something: suicide only eliminates the chances of anything getting better. I know you think no one will miss you, or your death won’t bother anyone- but it will. You are soso loved, even if you don’t realize it. You’re an amazing beautiful person and there’s soso many other options okay? I love you. x