The thoughts I feel

Free

Before you continue to read what follows, please know that everything I describe is fictional. I did not kill myself, I only wrote this text a couple months back when I was lowest ever.
I feel a bit odd making this public as this is probably my most vulnerable piece of writing yet, so I might delete it at some point, when I regret it too much.

Everywhere I look I see blood. My blood. My clothes are sticky and damp and the bathtub is slowly overflowing with the red liquid. I can already hear the first drops hitting the floor. I feel myself smile. I feel joy overcome me. Finally it would all be over, the struggle would have been worth it.
My ears are ringing and my body parts start to feel numb. I start to feel light headed. But I don't worry, I had read this would happen, I was expecting it.
Even though I can barely hear or see or feel anything, I can hear someone rushing to me, a hand grabbing mine, grasping it as tight as they could.
Why, why did someone have to find me now? Couldn't they have come when it was finally over. I see the blurry person in front of me dial 911 and grasp my blood covered hand tighter.
I feel the other hand on my back. I can imagine myself staining their clothes. Why were they doing this to themselves?
The blood keeps on flowing and by now the bathroom is covered. The thin razor blade I threw on the floor would be covered by now, impossible to find. I shut my eyes to not have to look at her, not to have to look hat her blood smeared face, the tears welling up in her eyes and rolling down her pale cheeks. What had I done? What had I done to her? She would be traumatized for the rest of her life.
I want to tell her to go, to leave me alone. That it was my choice when and how I go. That it's my choice whether or not I want to live. That it's bad enough that I was born without my permission so I should at least choose my means of death. But only a couple of sounds leave my dry throat. Her hand is caressing my sticky red hair telling me that it would be okay, that doctors were coming. She thought she was soothing me. But she was making me angry.
I wanted this. This was my choice. Why couldn't she accept that?
I had been so happy. The thought of freedom had been so beautiful. Leaving had been all I had wanted for ages. And finally I was going to make it, I was going to be free but she had to wreck it. She had to be self centered enough to think that she could be reason for me to live on. She was naive enough to think that life was worth living.
Hot tears of exasperation start to run down my cheeks, leaving clean streaks in the blood. A lump is building in my throat making it impossible for me to breathe. But it is okay, because the ambulance would be too late. I would be dead by the time they come.
And I know that for sure. I am unable to see, unable to hear, even the ringing had passed. My entire body is numb, the tingling in my fingers is gone. I can't feel the tears run down my cheeks and am not bothered by my inability to breathe.
I was going to be free.

Everything around me is black. Everything around me is silent.

Finally it was over. My life was over. And I was overjoyed.