Step 1: Fall in love

I was talking with my grandmother the other day.
I told her I wasn't feeling myself lately, and I wasn't sleeping well.
I told her I was sad and didn't know what to do.
I ended my statements with "But it's okay."
She said in a low worried tone "No it isn't."
I was taken back, but shook it off.
A few days later my mother asked me if anything was bothering me.
I said "Yes, but it's okay"
She said "No it's not."
Again I stopped in my tracks to contemplate this.
But again, I shrugged it off.
In one of my classes I was talking about suicide to a friend of mine.
I told her no one really cared, that life would go on.
To prove a point I turned to another friend of mine next to me.
I said "I want to **** myself, you don't care right? It's fine"
He was shocked.
he told me"I'm a little concerned, it isn't fine."
I was silent the rest of the class.
I had to think of how twisted my perception of the word "Okay" was.
So many people actively told me "Please stop doing this to yourself"
I couldn't listen.
I developed such a low regard for myself as a human being, saying things like "I want to die" and "If I don't **** myself first" were second nature.
I no longer saw suicide as something I had to be pushed to do.
But as something that would inevitably happen on it's own, unconsciously.
But it's okay.
It's okay.
I could say that so many times and never believe it.
Because it isn't.

It's easy to forget how I fell in love with you.
All I can remember is the things about you that haunt me.
I forget about what I fell for.
Who you were before I knew you.
You were a stranger but the most beautiful one to me.
Now I'll try to fall in love with other strangers
But I don't not know them like I didn't know you.
They'll never be you.
I wish I could forget you to meet you again.
In someone else.

I hate the sun
I hate traffic
I hate spicy food
I hate myself
I hate my thoughts
But I can't bring myself to hate you

I have been through 4 hurricanes in my life so far.
They're dark, and cloudy.
With lots of rain and thunder.
My first hurricane was scary.
I thought the roof would give in, and I'd fly away.
The second hurricane, was exciting.
The rain flooded the streets and I saw a man in a canoe on our road.
The third hurricane was comforting.
The thunder lulled me to sleep with the sound of snoring giants.
My fourth hurricane, was you.
You tore my roof off and swept me into the eye of the storm.
Storm walls made of arms that comforted me when I cried.
Thunder made of a voice that spoke like the cool side of a pillow.
Rain made of love that watered my heart and let it grow.
But the storm eventually passed.
The eye moved away and I was left in a whirlwind of emotions.
Hate and anger moved across me like wind.
Sadness and suicide struck lightning into my core.
After it had passed my roof was still gone and I was left cold and wet.
Curled up in a bed made for two but holding only one.
My fourth hurricane ruined more than just my house.
It ruined me.