Fucking coward

I’m sitting in my bathtub gun in hand playing Russian roulette and I start to cry. Not because I’m afraid to die, no. Because I’m afraid of failing. Afraid that I won’t do it right and somehow I will survive. Afraid that my dogs will starve to death before someone notices I’m missing.. Because no one ever comes to my house or calls or really even notices I exist. I pick up the phone to call or text someone, because by now I am bawling and it’s not I really want to die, I just want the pain to stop. I want to have someone pay attention to me. To love me. To make me feel like I have a reason for not pulling the trigger. And I can’t think of anyone, not ONE person who would actually pick up, let alone actually show up to hold me and let me cry and tell me that I matter. I’m a fucking coward. Because I’ve fucked up literally everything else in my life, I don’t want you fuck this up too. Maybe if I use two guns simultaneously.. That’s really the only option here. Ensure no limit for error..