Mirage.

inevitable.

I never thought I would have to taste probable cancer, at the expense of few hours of sleep. Since you were gone, my insomnia found its cure in nicotine.

"I only smoke with my best friends," I had refused to share a puff of smoke with you. Maybe that's where I went wrong. Maybe, I should have tried to be your friend and not whichever role I was assigned to play in your life. My friend is angry with me, I can sense her disappointment. But, God I pray she never understands, she never empathizes, and that she never goes through such trauma that you seek refuge at the arms of death. It sounds so dramatic when I put it so eloquently.

We all have been lulled into the arms of death, since the moment we took our infant breath. We have since disillusioned ourselves into believing that we are here to live, find a purpose, make the most of it before the inevitable, stand with our heads held high before we have to bow before time. Time, is a strange entity. It transcends all of us. It chronicles each passing moment, taking in our experiences, our conflicts, minimizing itself for our benefit.
One second less of disillusionment. One second more of hope.

I wish we had given time to ourselves. To each other. To what we had. I wish we hadn't exhausted our due share. It's too late now, I suppose. We had our chance at disillusionment, and it was timeless while it lasted. Like a cigarette, I laugh at myself for the fetish I have developed for this stick of death, however, like a cigarette, we were transient. We burnt, we matched and then we turned into ash.

Inevitable. Inevitable like death. Everything sees a dusk, a crimson end to a sunrise. We saw it too. After all, how long do the stars gleam before giving away to the sun? The sun itself is a star, too small to transform into an all consuming black hole upon its death, but still glaring enough to diminish the twilight. We found our suns, I believe. But, all stars must die and obliterate into the vast black of the universe. Not at the speed of light obviously, but in its own time we must give back the energy we have been absorbing.

We must give back the light. Hence, we gave in and gave up. We surrendered our lights, and I gave myself up to another one. A light that burns a cigarette, and is slowly moving me towards the inevitable.

Inevitable, like the sun, its rise and set. Inevitable, like life, its beginning and end.

Inevitable, like us, whatever we were and whatever we weren't. Whatever, that was what we were, we could not define it properly.

But I believe, we were inevitable.