I feel cold.

The stars shine brightly in the sky above me.

I see the moon, serene and distant.

The dagger rests perfectly in my heart.

I remember the stories my mother once told me.

I recall the faces of my cat and dog.

Yet, why do I feel so empty?

Isn’t this what I always wanted?

To sleep peacefully, to finally be free.

Then why does joy still elude me?

They promised I’d feel it once I reached my goal.

What am I missing?

I pondered this as the final moments of my life slipped away, blood seeping from the wound I gifted myself.

And then, as the last flicker of light faded from my eyes, I understood.

It’s because I can no longer remember that face.