Do you know what it feels like to have no meaning or porpuse?

I come from a wealthy family, I am quite smart, I've always done well in school, I have great knowledge from many different subjects, yet I couldn't graduate because I couldn't get in tune with what I studied. In some day, I beleieve it would happen with any other course I'd take, I would grow tired and bored of it and become unable to complete it.

I feel a deep pain in my chest to which there is no cure, I feel that, though I am good in nature, I am forever tainted by my past. I shall try to explain it better.

Despite my good originis, my ability to always whitstand any adversity, I was bound not to have a simple life. During a period of around 5 years of my life, starting at 14, I was weak and pathetic. Along many horrible actions I've commited and shall not speak of, I consummed drugs, specially heroin (which partially explains the long depression I've been scarred with since I can remember), I've hurt many people, I belonged to a gang, but not your average hard ball gang, it was much worse, it went to levels that now disgust me and haunt me every single night. I saw 3 great friends of mine perish, each at his turn, each in his way, each in different occasions, different porpuses, different hatred fueling their actions, until only I remained. This caused me many blanks nights, many nights I prayed God for the strength to end my life.

Other that what I've already said, my life was also scarred with promiscuity, such depravation that has some impact in my current life, as you shall know in a few momments. I was lucky never to contract any STD, and for that, at least, I am thankful. The way it affects my current life is: I've met the love of my life. For more than 2 years now we've been together, she is everything to me. I have vowed to love, protect and be faithful to her until the day I die, which many days I pray that I fall in protection of her. She is aware of much of my previous life, though many secrets will remain buried and follow me to the grave, and for many of the aspects of my past life I feel tainted. I feel spiteful, consummed with self-hatred, of the sorrowful, horrid human being I once was, I can never stop feeling as in some way I shall be the end of her, I live in the constant fear that I shall one day bring such grief into her life that I will die of a pain to which there would be no possible soothing.

For these and many other reasons I constantly pray. I pray that death will come steadily in my sleep, I pray it comes swiftly for me, even if painfully, it does not matter, as every single momment I breath, I feel my head bursting with the most abject hatred for myself, my chest being thorn with such agony that I encase it all where none can see, where none could ever get hurt from it, I hope. I cannot kill myself. There was a time, a few years back, when I'd have done it. So many times it came to mind, as it still does, so many times I felt the rush to end it all with a bullet to the head or a quick cut, warm and red penitence flowing across my chest, a puddle of my own despair and final act of good.

The love I feel now steadies my hand and my will, I am bound to this woman as no bounds I've witnessed before. The love, plesure and pain that come from it are cherished. My last attempt at life, my final chance to do something good, as all the evil cannot be undone.

Such a good start, such a great rise and a great, disgraceful fall. I shall never feel any self-steem or self-respect ever again, but it burdens me not. In my depression I have found ways to put emotions aside so many times, ignore the cut as the blood flows, a pain which is only in your mind won't trully kill, perhaps.

I pray for death and it does not come for me. I pray for freedom, which I don't deserve.

For the slow, agonising eternity in burning and pain, I pray. Why oh why doesn't the end for which I pray come?