I want to be dead by Christmas. 
I want to have ended it all before the first snowflake falls. I want to have died…to be buried beneath the ground. 
But I won’t be. I have to live, pretend that everything is ok…for her.

I have always been drawn to the winter months.  It’s when death can be most appreciated. I think it’s the best time to fade away. 

But I can’t… I have to go on living for her. 

It doesn’t matter that I don’t want to. It’s not her fault at all. I know she will love me regardless. It’s other though..others who will whisper lies into her ears. 

About how I must not have loved her enough to stay. They don’t understand…see I love her so much that I am willing to let go. 

I love her so much I welcome death like an old friend. I never wanted to be here in the first place but ever since she has been born I have been drawn to death even more. 

I guess it’s ironic that she was born in the winter. Just days before the first snow flakes of that year started to fall. I want to say goodbye before they come. 

That way she will always know that I am watching her. I will always love her and cherish her. 

As the snow comes down on her she will know.