And like a fucking idiot, I remembered it all. Every last departure. Every last trip to watch someone tell stories about another part of my life that was gone. Until only one part was left.
I remembered the words from an old song.
“In a world that I don’t want to know
With a message that I never want to send
To be freed from all of this
I want you to quicken my end”
The one thing I’d prayed for in my life. To die first. To be the first one to leave this world, the world that hurt me so much, that made me so angry, that I couldn’t begin to understand. How I’d wanted to be freed from the chaos, the confusion, the destruction we humans had caused, and were still causing.
Only to end up the last one left. Everyone I’d grown up with was gone. And the universe, for some fucked reason, had to make certain I lived to see them all die. Almost like it was telling me, “We’re going to make you suffer. You don’t understand misery and pain, you don’t understand tears, you don’t understand loneliness. We’re going to keep you here until you do.”
I keep looking in that mirror, at myself, and I wondered, “If someone we love dies, and crosses over, does that someone haunt us, not to torture us, not to scare us, not to get vengeance, or rush our death. But perhaps, so they can talk with us when we sleep, when we dream.”
As I looked into the mirror I heard my voice, as I spoke words I had never spoken before, “Never let the universe know you want to die. Bitch will keep you around forever. Just because.”