I think about killing myself much of the time. Moments of silence will lead to me imagining a rope around my neck, who would find me, if anyone would care. That thought is always there in the back of my mind. I don’t tell anyone about it because I don’t want them to stop me. I pretend everything is fine but the emptiness inside grows more everyday. I’m probably too much of a coward to really do it but that’s what I think about and that is a truth.