Maybe this is not fitting entirely in this thread...
Well, I'm not suicidal (anymore) - but I ain't keen on living either.
I don't really care about what is going to happen. Really. I mean, I might just leave the house to get a bottle of coke, a car runs over me, and I die. And that's it. Would I be sad about it (assuming it's possible to have such a feeling after you died and have the ability to "look back")? No.
I lived the moments I wanted to live. I might have not been to all the places I'd like to see, but that's not such an important thing. Now, my whole life feels like the encore of the main line-up of the show - every new day, every new moment (good or bad) is a present, song after song until the definite end.
The point is that it sometimes makes me act quite suicidal in some cases. I mean, I used to rush down the hills with my racing bike at a speed around 90 kph (55 mph), without a helmet, just for an example. I mean, only the breaks need to fail, or a little rock is puncturing a tire in an uncontrollable way... and recently, I plan to go on a trip hiking through the Icelandic highlands, without food (water is easy to find) and minimal equipment, for about 400km through a periglacial desert, no one around for hundreds of kilometers... basically, I live each day like it's the last. And sometimes I like to take risks every "normal" person would consider crazy.
To come back to the question: Life. Life is keeping me from (passive) suicide. Until I might risk too much in living it.