Hope is the thing that kills us.

It makes things bearable, it lifts you.

All to have you crash down even harder.

All to hurt you more.

It just makes the end so much worse.

Because you think that things can be better, things could be fixed.

But some things cannot be changed.

The End was always near. Nearer than I thought.

Death is inevitable, yet hope makes us believe it doesn't have to be.

Life and death is a never-ending cycle. But for what?

What do we live for if it will all end?

What are we here for if it'll never mean anything?

Why do we try, when everything is going to amount to nothing.

We'll never be able to do things that truly matter, just keep our heads out of the water, even as we flip the switch to keep the water flowing.

This life will never mean anything to the universe, so why do we hang on?

What is it that keeps the pain suspended?

Hope.

It just drags the pain, the suffering on, for it all to be that much worse when it falls apart.

We hang on the edge, and when our fingers slip, we believe we can fly.

It makes the fall that much more torturous. 

And we all fall.

My fall is almost here.

I can feel it. It starts in the brain, and moves to the heart.

I could hang on for a bit longer, if I just leave. But what's the point?

Everything I've ever done, accomplished, attempted is going to end, sooner or later, and I'd rather get it out of the way.

I'd rather jump off of the cliff with the hope of falling, than the crushed dream of flying.

So here goes nothing. Literally.

The numb begins, spreading through my fingers.

They're no longer there. I'm no longer here.

I look at the one thing that hope has held against me.

Tears stream down my face.

I'll never see him again.

I'm still scared. We are programmed to survive, and death is painful. We should not die, our bodies tell us, as we slowly die a death caused by living.

I scan his beautiful face, from the bright smile that I'll never see again to the glasses he breaks every year.

Maybe it could have worked. But I could never be enough for him.

His smile will break, as it already has. He will feel the symptoms of hope and it's failures.

That's one thing we all have in common.

The pain brought from crushed dreams, destroyed hopes, and broken hearts. For no matter how heartless we may say or believe we are, we have that small spark of hope.

And mine has gone out.

Maybe I said I didn't feel things, but hope is a greedy, greedy thing. It could not leave me alone, only corrupting whatever it touched.

It's cruel to give light in a dark room, only to extinguish it.

It's cruel to give life, only to take it away.

I look around my room once more. Tears pour from my eyes, but I refuse to be ashamed. It won't matter. None of it has ever mattered, and it never will be again.

I loved him, and I have died a hundred times for it.

It's time to give it up.

My arms are gone, the relief spreading towards my heart.

Maybe then I'll stop loving him.

I never want to stop loving him.

I look at the pictures on the walls, me and him all over the room.

Logan and Patton. We could have fit if I could have been someone better.

But I have failed.

The emptiness reaches my heart. It burns.

This part hurts. I feel it take everything, and free it.

The love I hid is finally free.

I am finally free, and I am letting go.

The world fades to white.

"I'm sorry, Patton."