His Own Eulogy

And then, fortunately for him, he had not woken up once more.

After a life of love, hope, and utter optimism, his life spiraled down to this.
Each night became a scream for a bitter end for him, and each morning was a cry of disappointment.

After he realized that being alive would not effect anyone else's lives any further, he simply gave up. Just knowing that no one would really care anymore was too much for him.

His last words were, "How can a person live a life that they are no longer living?"

He was destined for everything under the sun. He was born the golden child of his family, and was treated as such. He could do no wrong.
Of all the directions his life could have been headed, he at one point chose ministry, which was the beginning of his downfall. The pressure to be perfect made him imperfect, as eyes watched him without end or remorse.

At a young age, he tried to end his life on several occasions, but was never able to succeed. If there was one thing in life he was never good at, it was succeeding.

He only dated one girl, which lasted 2 years, and 1 year too long at least. For almost an entire year after that, he spent the rest of his life experimenting with people and himself, trying to discover who him and his friends were, and failed once more.

But no one could see he was dying.

On December 18th, Tyler took an entire bottle of morphine tablets, which he got for pain in his knee, and was discovered in his room the following morning, dead and free from the human world, but not hell, thus ending 18 and a half years of confusion, dreaming, and failure.

Good riddance.