Euthanasia (Kellic)

24: The Temporary

It's The Most I Can Do For You; Once Again, I'm Never Alone, All We Are Is All Behind Us

With a lighter tucked between my fingers, and the letters on the floor, burning them is a real possibility, yet one I just can't quite succumb to.

I think that maybe burning them is the right thing to do; removing their worth and impact from reality entirely, but somehow, I'm far too attached to them to let them go. It's pathetic and I'm far too aware of that fact for my own liking, but it's something I'm stuck with now.

And I feel like the letters are too, because despite all the shit they've caused me, they still feel like part of me; a part of my heart ripped out for the world to see, and part of me hates that. A great part of me wants to destroy that with everything I have, but there's this needy little part of me that's clinging onto them like a lost child, and it's precisely that part that's left me to fall for Vic Fuentes.

It was then that I felt my fingers stumbling over the cursive that had put words onto paper for Vic, and the cursive that had in turn changed everything and I still wasn't sure as to whether it was for the better or for the worse.

The simple fact that Vic hadn't immediately rejected me on sight was worth something though - even I reckoned that. But it was the way it had come to be that really brought on the sickening feeling deep-set within my stomach.

The way Vic had read words off the page that was never really intended for him to read, well in life anyway. I wondered how different things would have been if I hadn't been quite so careless that day, leaving Vic to find the letters beside my body; lifeless and gone. I never really would have wanted for him to see me like that, but in a selfish way, this was worse, because he'd read my thoughts.

He'd read the deepest things inside of me that no one was ever supposed to know, and he'd just brushed it off like nothing. Something tells me that's trust down to the finest level, but I know by now that trust doesn't really exist - you can never really hold your life in anyone's hands; we're all far too selfish, and when it matters, trust is irrelevant, and when it's important, we see nothing but ourselves, and we don't care.

The letter to Vic is important from the start, setting the tone of importance, and allowing Vic to make that 'trust', and of course now that trust is held tight like tightrope string that the whole world tramples over every day, that trust is going to snap soon enough; in one fluid motion, everything I've been clinging onto for dear life's going to fall apart. But I'm expecting it, because that's what trust does - trust, like everything, breaks.

Nothing lasts forever.

And I know that now.

So I think maybe I'll burn them now, because nothing lasts forever anyway, and I'm clinging onto that fact for death life, despite the irony that even that fact won't last forever either. One day, people will forget and those three words will fall back down along the path to irrelevancy, and those three words will never fit together anymore, the three little pieces of sanity in my mind to be one day lost in nothing but a perfect display of irony.

But that's how the world works, and I can't resist reading them over one last time, because they still mean something - in fact, they still mean an awful lot, and I just can't force myself to let them go quite that easily.

Vic Fuentes, I love you.

Five words and I already can't take it; the whole world caving on me as I imagine Vic letting those five words pass through his mind.

How could he possibly have reacted at first? As the words first left the page and became a secure part of reality, how could he have done anything less than freak out? He would have freaked out, for certain. And maybe I don't blame him, but maybe I do, I do blame myself. That's for certain.