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The long awaited day, when death came to play

by heartlessviking

It was a long expected reunion, between myself and death. We’re old compatriots, comrades, but not really friends. If you’re friends with death, that’s another world entirely. It’s like being sexually attracted to death. While I admit that it has an allure, death is rarely sexy, and even more rarely openly attractive. Rather it is an acquired taste. One of many of mine.

I knew it would return. Like a lover with low self esteem, death slinks back, ashamed to admit that it needs to associate. It comes in waves. Death of a family member with death of a pet, or beloved friend. Death of career along with death of hope. Death is many things, generous most of all. If pain is what you seek, death offers it in unlimited quantities.

So, the last few days death has been my house guest. It hovers over every conversation, implying a sense of finality. Who will be next? The anticipation is sickening. It won’t be me, death is having too much fun with me to dispose of me. It will be someone living life to the full, someone so vibrant that their death will shock and offend the senses.

I think that’s why I resist it. I’ll admit my lack of control over the waves of loss, but my hand will do kindness, even to the last. It toys with me, taunting me about who or what it might take next. That’s my role, I’m one of the few people that cohabitates with and associates with death. It’s not a position that I have any pride in, but it is a familiar identity, possibly the only thing that really sets me apart.

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TheOpenRoad 5/30/2021 - 12:11 pm

Off topic, but I usually read your posts because of how well you write. This post is quite starkly the best piece of writing I’ve read this month.

I do see how the idea of suicide becomes a part of who you are. Fantasizing about your blood on your hands. The longer it gets, the harder it is to extricate yourself from it. You don’t know who you are without the comfort that an escape from anything at all is firmly in your hands. It’s powerful. You’re not a slave to destiny. Letting go of that power’s disagreeable. To feel like a cockroach scuttling about in fear again. Death and misery don’t really breed pain as much as apathy. It’s always guilt when someone goes. Here you are courting suicide while someone that would’ve given anything to keep ticking is robbed of the chance, seemingly at random. It’s fucked up. Anyway, I don’t know where I meant to go with this. I just see your perspective.

You’re not alone with loss. Countless people have felt it who are now dead. Countless people right now. Countless children will grow up to experience loss after loss and pain. It’s not fair. But everybody gets to the other side. It’s one thing we have to be good at. You’re going to get there too.

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