The Thought of Killing Myself
Today is unusually quiet; there don’t seem to be many people around. Those who are here roam like shadows, lost in their own worlds. There’s something beautiful in the stillness, in the peace that only silence brings. It’s only in the absence of sound that we realize how endlessly stimulated we are. Life’s noise is an unbroken highway, one we rarely escape, a highway where simply existing, simply being, feels too often out of reach. In my community, there’s hardly a car on the road, not a voice in the air. As if everyone received a memo to disappear, as if some unseen event was quietly pulling everyone away, and I alone missed the message. It’s strange that today, in a society where noise fills every corner, quiet feels unsettling, a sign that something isn’t quite right.
Yet, in this quiet, my thoughts are suddenly louder, no longer softened by the hum of life around me. They arrive in waves, like messages flooding in the moment you switch on your phone. They come and go, gifts of the present moment, a gift of the now. Each thought varies in topic, often meaningless, yet still bidding for attention. Amid these thoughts, an unexpected one surfaces almost absurd in its presence: “I want to kill myself.” I feel no urge, no genuine desire, but I decide to linger on it a moment, to see what it stirs within.
I have no inclination to act, yet with this thought now present, I reflect on where I am in life, wondering if it speaks to something deeper, a quiet need or unmet desire. Despite my challenges, I am happy. I’m here in a new country, making connections, learning, and discovering the world with new eyes. Enjoying the process of living the life I decided, and the life I work to create. But as I follow this reflection, I realize a subtle absence in my life. I don’t have someone to share the most intimate parts of my day with. I don’t have that close soul to confide in, someone to whom I can say, “Today was quiet; today was uneventful, but this was my day.”
Loneliness can sit beside even the fullest life, a subtle shadow. It’s only when we find someone with whom we can share the smallest, most mundane details that we shed that shadow. That is the beauty of a true connection, of a romantic relationship at its best. There’s a right to share in the unremarkable and the ordinary, sharing what feels otherwise unworthy of sharing. And while I lack that person now, I know the time will come. I’m excited for that, though I’m in no rush, for life is long.
If I did entertain that initial thought, who would know? Who would mark the moment, would see that I, in a quiet room, am studying grammar, feeling the strange peace of a quiet day with little happening? I wouldn’t have anyone to share the quiet with, to celebrate the unimportant, to share in the unremarkable with me. And so, while the day’s stillness allowed space for that thought, there is no urgency in it, no truth. It is that thought that spurred this exploration, that the beautiful thing about love is finding someone who cares and seeks to share in the quiet, the unnoticed with you. For those of us searching for that connection, there is time yet. It’s a beautiful gift of the human experience, sharing life’s silences with someone. It’s not about being noticed; it’s about finding someone to share the unnoticed.
