Prologue

Life wouldn't let me Die, so I Lived to Talk About it.

Here's some food for thought: for you to realize how strong you are, and how capable you can be, you need to fail so miserably, you want to kill yourself. Now that's regarding anything, whether that be your career, your love life, your family, your friends, your life.

Coming back from failing so terribly is hard, so hard you want to quit, but don't do that; don't quit on becoming better than your most miserable self. Because that's what quitters do, and you're not a quitter.

… HAHA, yeah right. I know this better than anyone else, because I failed in everything: my career got shit on, my love life is in the depths of hell, my family disowned me, what friends do you speak of, and my life … sucks. Like really sucks. So bad I've been sharing a box with a cat who would rather be hung upside and skinned than stay anywhere near someone as disgustingly abhorrent as me.

I quit on becoming someone better a long time ago. All the shit falls I went through, one after the other, destroyed my morale so terribly I couldn't stand to stay alive. All the attempted suicides and all the laughs I threw at life, all that meant shit, because it never worked; I never succeeded in dying.

Life is a cruel mistress indeed, giving you all the opportunities to make a person happy, and then throwing them all away to show you how much of a fucking bitch it can be. Don't get me wrong, I used to love living. I had a fantastic job, a boyfriend who I was desperately in love with, a great, loving family, a small friend group consisting of just 3 people, and life was good. It was GREAT. It was so great that I should have figured that something bad would happen.

And so one after the other, my happy life crumbled to pieces, burned in hell, turned to ash, and got whisked away by the wind, never to be found again.

Let's start from square one then. My job was exactly what I wanted after I graduated university. It fit my major, and there wasn't a day I considered "boring". I did my work on time, came in early every day, and got promoted on a number of occasions. Now you ask, "What could have happened to risk you losing your job?" Now this is where the boyfriend, my family and friends enter on scene.

No one knew I was gay, for obvious reasons. I kept that little tidbit a secret, to avoid living on the streets (and look where I am now, haha. Fuck.) Turned out that my boyfriend had another lover, and I mean like a for-real lover: they were dating even longer than we dated, which happened to be 5 years. So now you think about it and say, "so it wasn't the other guy who was the side bitch, it was you." Yepp, I was the side hoe the entire time. And I should have fucking knew that, since after the fact, I started seeing the signs I should have noticed 5 years ago.

So jumping to the point now, this "boyfriend" of mine thought it would be HYSTERICAL to ruin me. I'm talking about sending pictures and videos of us having sex to everyone important to me: my boss, my family, and my friends.

You can probably imagine the ordeal that occurred right after. Actually… don't. It sucked so bad; so bad that I tried killing myself that day. My boss fired me, calling me a disgusting eyesore and "how could I have hired someone so filthy, get. The. Fuck. Out. RIGHT. NOW!"

My family was worse; WAY worse. By the time I got home, all my things were outside and the locks had been changed. I stood there for a good 10 minutes until a patrol car stopped in front of the house and tried to arrest me for trespassing. Turned out my family disowned me the moment they received the pictures and video feed. They changed the locks to keep me front entering and filed a restraining order against me.

Thinking that maybe I could crash at one of my friend's house, I tried to call them. No one picked up. It all went straight to voice mail. I tried visiting their homes, where, guess what, there was a patrol car waiting as well. So now I was street bound.

If you're wondering what happened between me and my ex, all I could tell you is that he clearly never loved me as was intended. Since he was originally dating that other guy for far longer than he dated me, all I can assume is that they both fucked with me to be funny. I'm pretty sure the real boyfriend tried to teach me a lesson to show that the man I was in love with 5 years never actually loved me back. That was really painful to live with after my life came crashing down. I never heard from either of them afterwards.

So now you can see that I was thoroughly abandoned by everyone I've loved, all because I loved a man. I've been living like this for 2 years now. For 2 years, I've lived with cats and rats and dogs and other people, who give me looks of pity, and some of sympathy. I've learned a lot since I became homeless. I've learned that claiming your territory is what will help you to survive. Also, always carry a weapon, whatever it may be.

Oh. And don't trust anyone. Not even the cats and dogs. Everyone is a sneak and a snake on the streets. You have your gangs, but even they do not trust one another at the end of the day.

So now you may ask what you've wanted to ask since the beginning: "Why haven't you done anything about it?" Haaah. I've tried. I've tried so damn hard, that I started begging for anyone to let me work for them. Anywhere was fine, as long as I was able to make some money to get the fuck out of this place. Because here's something else, which I forgot to mention earlier: everyone now knew I was gay. No one wanted a fag to work for them.

And now here I am, still living on the streets, still trying to die.