Falling

Dear loved ones? No, too formal. Scratch that.

Should I address everyone individually? Tell them everything I feel even though I wasn't clear on it all myself? Or just not write anything at all?
Ugh fuck it. How does someone start one of these things anyway?

To whom it may concern?

I let it sink in for a minute. Yes that's it. That fit.

To whom it may concern,

I've tried to play the role of the perfect girl, really I have. I wanted to seem normal and thought that if I just followed the rules I would find happiness waiting at my doorstep. I've been denying parts of myself to myself. I can't live with the pain I've caused, the lies I've told, I don't want to live at all.
This shouldn't surprise anyone at all, not really. I wish I had something good to say something to help ease the pain I'm about to cause but I don't because I really don't think anyone will give a shit in the end. This is a crappy suicide note, I know. But at least I wrote one.
- Dylan

Is that how I should end it? Should it say with love or sincerely?
I stared at the paper for a long time, I just couldn't word my feelings right. It was my seventh attempt at writing it and each time it felt worse than the one before. I sat in my car with the heat running and the radio playing low. I had gotten off from work and had been sitting out here for about an hour and a half now trying to compose my thoughts. It wasn't really working.
I balled it up, threw it down then took out another sheet of notebook paper and tried it again.
It took several minutes of staring before I put my pen to the paper.

To whom it may concern,

This seemed like the only way. I wish I could say I was sorry, but as many of you have pointed out, I'm too selfish for that.

-Dylan

My writing was a bit sloppy but legible.
Short, simple to the point, because no matter how many times I tried to explain it to myself, why I was doing this, no clear answer appeared in my mind. I folded up the note and slipped it into an envelope and sealed it. I drew a small butterfly on it and hoped that when they, my family... or my husband for that matter, found it they would know it was from me.
I turned off the car and went into the house.
It was dark and quiet and for as long as I've lived here it never felt like home to me. I placed the note in the cookie jar on the counter, an unlikely place. I plugged the house phone and turned off all the lights. My feet dragged as I walked upstairs.
My husband Christopher wasn't home and wouldn't be until tomorrow morning. He was away on business, as usual. I went to the bathroom and took the pill bottle out of the medicine cabinet. I filled the glass full of water and carried them both back to the bedroom.
I changed into a pretty dress, it was silly but I wanted to be presentable when death took me. I sat on the bed then opened the bottle of oxycodone and took out ten pills. I popped them in my mouth two at a time without a second thought and took several gulps of water. I lied back in bed and felt too numb to cry.
I slipped off my wedding ring and placed it on the end table next to the bed. I stared at it for a moment then at my wedding photo which sat on the end table. What a joke. I closed my eyes after a minute, hopefully for the last time. There was no regret in my head, no hesitation, no fear. I felt at peace.
As I began to drift a Pink Floyd song popped into my mind,
"Goodbye cruel world, I'm leaving you today..... There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind, goodbye.”
It summed up everything so perfectly.
Then I cursed myself for not including it in the suicide note.