Fast forward a few months I met someone. I was 14 and she was 13. It was young love. Yeah I bet some of y'all probably thinking what the fuck did we know about love. We didn't know anything. I didn't know the pressure there was to "love" someone. It was a lot. She was the most amazing and beautiful person I ever met. We started talking on Instagram and somehow we got together. Everything was amazing. I legit forgot that I was trying to kill myself a couple months ago. She made everything disappear. I told her everything and I felt like a burden was lifted. My heart was no longer feeling tight you know. As I said everything was amazing. We went on dates after school, we called, we told each other everything and well we loved each other. Since we were together, I made friends, I was more open with myself but we only lasted 8 months. Somehow I knew something was wrong and she wasn't happy anymore. From being relationship goals to what not to be in a relationship. Everything slowly started to fall apart. We were always arguing, cursing each other and insulting one another. I tried to make things better but whatever I did just made everything worst. I was working part time at a clothes store and the day she broke up with me, the day she said ,"It's over Chris," everything that I thought were no longer gonna be a problem for me just came rushing back in my head. "You fucking piece of shit, just drop death. You really thought you were gonna be happy? You're pathetic. You're useless. Just drop dead. You should kill yourself. Now. Kill your self now. Right now Chris. No one cares if you live, you're just a pathetic fucking piece of shit." That there was just repeating over and over and over again until I couldn't take it anymore and the sad part about it was that My family was saying all this. It was my family voices in my head. My family never said any of that but somehow Their voices were in my head.I tried not to let it bother me, I really did but I just couldn't anymore so I just walked out. I didn't know where I was going or where I was. After hours of walking, I reached by a bridge. "Jump," I said to myself. I took out my wallet, my phone and at that time I used to vape so I took that out as well. I crossed over the bridge and looked down. For some unknown reason I wasn't scared at all. I thought to myself that this is probably it. "I can finally fucking do it," I literally shouted. Also this was around 12:30am. When I tried to jump, all my fear started coming back to me and I started to cry. I cried and cried on the edge of the fucking bridge and because of all this crying like a little pussy my uncle found me and without a second thought I crossed over back and went in the van. We went home and when I walked inside of the house, my little cousins came running to me crying. I was staying by my grandmother so brother and sister wasn't there. I looked around and saw everyone faces and there was when I realized how much I'm loved. After long talks and lots and lots of crying, I promised to never try and hurt myself but one month after I tried to do it again.