"You know you're going to kill yourself smoking all those cigarettes?"
"I know, but it's better then than now, right?"
"What?"
"Nothing. It was just a joke."
"You don't joke about death, Luth. They are still people that needs you. We want you to live a long healthy life and enjoy while you're at it."
"As if I still have people that care for me. You see, me dying now or later doesn't concerns anyone. No one would be affected if I just disappear one day. Nobody. In fact, if I am not here right now, would you be wondering where am I?"
"Of course, you're pretty much my closest friend. We do everything together. We share the same dreams and ideals. We were both there for each other when we hit rock bottom."
"At least I was."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing."
"Why are you being so secluded? Even with me? I apologize for being blunt for this but you do realize that the reason that you being this suicidal and self destructive is because of how you refuse to speak up."
"And what about it? Does it bother anyone? To me, I know that me cutting people off is for their own good. CAN YOU IMAGINE DOING THINGS THAT YOU SHOULDN'T DO FOR THEIR SAKE? CAN YOU IMAGINE GOING TO BED AT NIGHT WITHOUT THINKING HOW YOUR LIFE COULD'VE BEEN WITH THEM IN IT? COULD YOU?"
"For their own good? You do that because you're scared of getting the same treatment that you got didn't you? You deny the possibility of having people to really care for you. You reject the notion of getting a pure, genuine relationship with people. You do that because your mind, your shallow mind, says that you don't deserve any. And I, as your last standing friend, I'm begging you. Speak up."
"It won't change anything. I speak up and people would pretend to listen and days past, they're back to their same bullshit. So, getting back to the question of me killing myself with these ciggs, would you rather me dying now or then? Both time frames would do me no good or harm."
"I'd prefer you live."
"Well I'd prefer nothing at all. I'd prefer me enjoying my last breaths with a nasty cloud of nicotine in my lungs. And that is just because. At least having a cigarette between my lips releases more serotonins than me just casually living on this Earth. And speaking up? I've done my best speaking up, voicing my problems. And did you know what do I get in return? Just a sore throat and wasted time. I give my thanks and congratulate you on being my only friend. Well, you're one persistent bastard. So before I cut you off, anything else you'd like to add so that you could appear in my memories and nightmares?"
"I love you buddy. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too. Later."
YOU ARE READING
where dreams go
PoetryA list of short stories that I come cross in my life that I had to romanticize and write about
