The thought of suicide was comforting, soothing. Whispering to me its sweet escape. An option. I had a way out from this evil, a dying wish. With eyes closed tight, while deep longing despair carved a hole inside my chest. Inside a meaningless world where everything will eventually turn to dust. The Earth itself will crumble. Days, months, years past. I realized that if I followed through with ending this precious gift called life, no one would have known that I didn't want to die. I cling to the precious things now, the things that get me through. Watching a sunrise, another day. I listen to my very alive breath, feel my strong pulse. Although I haven't escaped the clutches of depression, and dark thoughts sometimes creep their way back into my mind, I realize that its OK to not be OK. And now, I'm OK with that.