A Macabre Epiphany

Sucide has never been an option for me because I wanted to see how it all ended. But recently I've come to realize that me killing myself is it. The conclusion is me with the gun in my mouth and my finger on the trigger. The lives of other's go on, but mine ceases to exist. It's like watching a movie where the main character dies halfway through, though only from the perspective of the main character. As far as I know, the whole world ended after I died. If you asked anybody else, they'd probably say they missed me, but they wouldn't grieve for long. I was more like the shadow of the main character, always there but not nearly as important. So here I sit, with the gun in my lap, waiting. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for... an excuse not to do it? Someone to rush through the door and rescue me? For her to come back and apologize for everything she did? That won't happen, she probably doesn't even remember my name.