I didn't want to commit suicide. That wasn't the plan.

No.

It was because there was this crazy woman in a showy dress and an exotic perm that chased me down all the way from Time Square to Brooklyn Bridge.

I had the urge to jump over, just so I could swim away from her.

... It was too bad I was afraid of heights.

"Look at me when your elders are talking to you, little girl! I'm here to give you a second chance, to make your boring life meaningful. This is my job!"

"Wh-what are you? A cop?"

"No. I can't handle physical labor. My spine will snap at the 3rd cervical point."

"A-A negotiator?"

"Does it look like I have the patience to go through a whole Psychology Degree! I don't even know how virulent Stockholm Syndrome is!"

"Then what are you, exactly!? Wh-why are you stalking me!? I-I may be into girls and stuff, b-but that doesn't mean I do it with any women in heat!"

"For the 1867th time! I'm - A - GODDEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!"

... Seeing how scary her eyes were, she didn't give me that divine confidence.