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You wouldn’t understand how tragic the tragedy I saw occur was to me. Sure, suicide is bad and sad and all, but have you ever see it happen in person as you beg someone not to do it, as you say you care, have you ever seen someone blow their head off as you say I love you? Tragedy can wreak havoc upon your state of mind, your physical health. When you see a bullet rip through the flesh of the only person you’ve ever loved, ending their life, it can literally throw you across the room, causing you to weep until you have no more tears. When you know that there was nothing you could have done to save someone, to know that someone didn’t love you enough to choose the life ultimatum, it destroys your self-esteem. Your heart busts, it implodes, and you feel as if you are going to bleed out on the inside until you join the person who you are clutching, dead, in your feeble arms, as your salty tears splat against their barely warm lips. The next time you have to be dragged across the room from a supposed “crime scene” and left in the corner as you lay heaving in air and trying to dry your face so you can see your true love being hauled away from you on a blue gurney and popped into an ambulance to be taken to the morgue, talk to me. But until then, let me enjoy my slow death by broken heart. It’s the only thing I have left.

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