Howard sat at his computer and and began his e-mail:
When I kill myself I won’t leave a note. Most people don’t. The suicide note is a fiction dreamed up by mystery book writers and T.V. cop shows. The police detective states that it must have been murder since there was no suicide note.
If you have someone who cares enough about you to read the note then you don’t need to kill yourself.
Women write a lot of notes. They try to kill themselves much more than men do. But men are much more successful when they do try. Women don’t really want to kill themselves. They want to be the damsel in distress who gets rescued by the handsome EMT guy, or even better gets rescued by the handsome and rich doctor.
Women get all fixed up before they make their suicide “attempt”. They make sure the hair is perfect, pick out just the best clothing, and check that the apartment is spotlessly clean. Some psychiatrists think that when women do succeed a lot of time they actually just made a mistake.
Women want to look good when they are found. That’s why they use pills or wrist cutting. Never a gunshot to the face. Never walking in front of a train.
Like Amy and her pills. Amy, whose figure, hair and makeup still looked perfect in the hospital while Dr. Marcello looked down on her with his magnificent smile. The smile which cheered up even the most depressed patient.
Howard re-read his work so far. He thought about putting in some links proving his point about suicide statistics bu decided against it. Every time he did that his computer froze and he had to call the tech service he paid so much for to unfreeze it. They claimed they were in Florida, but the accents gave away the fact that the computer hotline really connected to India. Howard realized he was letting his mind get off track. He went back to his writing.
Men, are much more practical when it comes to killing themselves. They have an objective, pick the fastest way to complete that objective, then do it. No notes, no “exploring feelings” with other people, no giving a crap about what the pile of flesh left behind looks like.
The only thing that worries men is the possibility of getting maimed but not killed. You don’t want to walk into traffic and end up a paraplegic instead of dead. You don’t want brain damage from carbon monoxide. Life is bad enough now. The goal is to end it; not make it worse.
If you live in a rural area like me there are only so many options to chose from. Pharmacists monitor how many pills you get and won’t give you enough to do the job. Guns are a hassle to get. You can do it, but there is so much paperwork. Plus, even with a gun you still have that “maiming yourself” problem. Some men have even survived after shooting themselves in the head.
The best way is the train. Walk through the woods at night, and two miles later come to the freight train tracks. At 11:32 PM precisely every night the train comes through at about 70 miles per hour. Nothing that stands in front of it could survive, and even if the engineer sees you; no brakes will stop that much steel in time.
Howard looked around the apartment and realized it was a mess. On the table next to his computer were empty pizza boxes, beer bottles and stacks of letters. On top of the letters was the wedding invitation. “Ms. Amy Chen and Dr. Louis Marcello invite you to the occasion of their wedding, blah, blah, blah.”
Howard re-read what he had written and sighed. He realized what he had said at the top was true. If you have someone who cares enough about you to read a suicide note then you don’t need to kill yourself. He sat motionless for three minutes and deleted what he had written. Then he went into his picture files and deleted all the pictures of Amy. Pictures of her at the beach smiling in her micro bikini with her straight black hair down to her waist. Pictures of Amy getting her degree. One “selfie” of Amy and Howard eating hot dogs at the beach.
Howard turned off his computer, got up and got his coat from the closet. He reached to the top of the closet and got the flashlight. It was dark in the woods this time of night. As he walked out the door he looked at his watch. It was only 10:05 PM. Still plenty of time to catch the train.