"Got over" my ex until tonight..

Saw my ex tonight. He (a FtM transgender; I'm an otherwise cishet male) was in a theatre performance in our hometown where he still lives for now, so I came to see it as I promised I would a while ago.

We haven't spoken in three weeks. Three Fridays ago we left on a sour note after he canceled plans we had to get breakfast last-minute. Besides the small spat the cancellation caused, we'd been on solidly good terms for several weeks. A couple days later I sent him a text while I was playing a trivia game with some friends. A question came up and I knew the answer, but only because it was something he had told me a long time ago when we were still together. He answered and made a little joke about me asking and then that was it.

Since then I've half-deliberately avoided any contact. We've both been busy -- him with theatre, me with school, and both of us with life in general. I had hoped tonight would be a refreshing moment, because when last we spoke I think we both would have called ourselves great close friends still.

I went to see him when the show was over after saying hey to a few other people I knew there. He came and offered a hug, which I returned. And the feelings rushed back into me again. Things I hadn't felt in a while and that I thought were all but gone. It was like I fell in love with him all over in a matter of seconds. And the thing about the hug was that I could tell that he felt nothing similar. I tried to convey my excitement and happiness for his performance, but it felt ill-received as I was kinda pushed aside.

I thought I was past this. I've gone out with and chatted up several other people in the past few weeks. I felt like I was over him, like I was whole again, y'know? But after tonight, I'm not so certain.

I generally run pretty low, emotionally speaking. Suicide is an almost daily consideration of mine. I have a necklace with a charm that means a lot to me that I wear when I need an extra boost to get through my day. I haven't taken it off, outside of showering, in almost a month. I keep poking my thumb on its pointed end to make sure it still hurts. All I can think of is taking the pointed end somewhere else on my skin and just letting it destroy me. I'm not trying to sound poetic to make a statement, but writing has always been one of my coping mechanisms.

In regards to my ex, I feel like I still want to be with him more than anything. If we can manage to just be best friends, that's okay, too, especially since we'd been just that for a couple of months without many complications.

No one has ever known or understood me -- my passions, my dreams, my quirks, or my pain -- like he has/did. And at this moment, I'm still honestly convinced that nobody ever will.

I want to die. I want to be done with all of this. Knowing that he either can't or simply won't be here to stop me, I want to disappear that much more.