I failed.

A simple task of dying, I still couldn’t do right. The last thing she wanted was to go alone, yet at death’s door, I was turned away. I suppose her invitation from Thanatos was hers alone.

My gaze locked longingly onto my own God of Death out the hospital window as orange horizons dimmed once more. I could still hear her fragile cries from the other side, waiting for me.

The doors sliding open didn’t divert my attention from her, especially not for the doctors keeping me here. However, rather than my doctor’s voice, I heard a delicate one that sounded scared to intrude into the room.

“Ah, sorry, I must’ve gotten the wrong–”

She stopped when I turned to make eye contact with her, an emptiness in her own reflected in mine. A brief silence fell upon us, yet at that moment, I knew she too was ruled by Thanatos.

She bowed shyly and stepped out, but I stopped her before she could close the door.

“It’s okay.”

I’m not quite sure what compelled me; maybe it really was all in those eyes, that gaze captivated with death. I wanted to latch onto someone who could understand me. See what I see.

“If you’re not busy, I could use the company of someone other than the cold, sanitized doctors.”

It was a silly request. We were strangers, yet she gave it a moment of thought. “I can come back after I visit my friend?”

The girl sounded unsure, as if she needed my approval, as if she was used to needing approval from the rest of this world. I simply nodded, the God of Death before me as clear as the day I jumped… When she returned as promised, our exchange all-too-naturally gravitated towards our shared vision.

“So you’re going to try again after you’re discharged?”

“I have to meet her again.”

“I see.”

She didn’t try to stop me or persuade me otherwise. She understood. Just a simple word of acknowledgement made me smile for the first time since that day.

“Do you mind if I come along?”

I wasn’t surprised. I knew and understood her too. It must’ve just been that I was conditioned to dissuade her…

“Don’t you have people you care about? People that care about you? Like that friend you visited?”

She laughed at the question, shaking her head, her black hair dancing around her neck.

“Don’t you have obligations too?”

I nodded back, chuckling at my own foolishness. There’s nothing left for either of us. Nothing but the last stop of the midnight train.

She smiled like a familiar angel, the face of someone who feels understood.

“I just don’t want to go alone.”

Those words echoed in my mind, words I didn’t know I needed to hear to make up my mind.

“Then wait for me. Wait for me to be discharged and we can catch the last train together.”

Months went by. She visited me on several more occasions while I was hospitalized, and we quickly learned more about each other, how dull and worthless our lives were and all the frustrations we wanted to escape from. After all, I figured I should get to know my fellow passenger for the last ride.

“Do you plan on leaving a note?”

“I didn’t last time.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have anyone to leave a note to either?”

“I do. They don’t deserve it.”

She giggled at my vindictiveness.

“I suppose so. What debts could you possibly owe anyone at the end of the line?”

She paused.

“So… you plan on actually doing it?”

“I look forward to it.”

“I see.”

Another pause settled between us.

“What a strange question to ask at this point.”

“It is. My apologies, I must’ve just been conditioned to ask.”

“I understand.”

“So where will you be doing it? Back at the same apartment?”

I shook my head.

“That won’t do. I might get turned away again from that height.”

She gave it some thought.

“Then how about the roof of this hospital? Just to spite these doctors and commemorate our time here.”

I smiled at the idea.

When the time came, I found myself enjoying the fresh air and the breeze from the roof of that hospital. It was much taller than the roof of my apartment building. There really was no chance of being turned away this time.

“Let’s go.”

I sent her the message on LINE, a finality to my words. Was this how she felt whenever she sent me “Goodbye”...? Soon enough, I heard hastened steps and the doors swing open behind me. I stretched an inviting hand out to her as I smiled.

“Shall we?”

She didn’t take my hand.

“Don’t.”

Her hands were resting on her knees as she gasped for breath after climbing those stairs.

“Don’t do it.”

For the first time, I couldn’t understand.

“Excuse me?”

“I said…” She slowly rose as she caught her breath, her hair fluttering in the wind. “Please don’t do it.”

“What are you say–”

“I’m selfish.”

She took the hand I had held out.

“I’m lazy, a burden, easily emotional, always grumbling about what could have been, and worst of all, a hypocrite. I’m a worthless person.”

I simply nodded back. “So am I! We’ve talked about this… I get it.”

“I want you to live.”

I looked forward to this day. I had looked forward to sharing this day with someone who understood me. Why did she have to ruin this for me? For us?

“I thought we understood each other!”

It’d been months since I had gotten this frustrated with someone. The last time was…

“Why are you trying to dissuade me now?! Why don’t you understand?”

“I don’t. I won’t pretend like I do. You might want to believe that I, or anyone could… I wanted that too. I won’t ever understand how you felt standing over the edge with her, but… Maybe there was a time when I held a similar sentiment, and maybe that’ll be enough for you… not just to understand, but to listen.”

I shook, soft laughters under my breath. She grasped on tighter. My hand instinctively pulled away, but I stopped myself. Hovering there, my thoughts raced to gather themselves. Her eyes glimmered with tears. I know how it feels to be pushed away.

She took my hand again.

“I’m a hypocrite, okay? So please… Don’t jump.”

She stared down at the ground as if she’d find her words written under her feet.

“I need to confess something.”

“My heart still belongs to her.”

“That’s not it.”

Our gaze met again as she dried her eyes.

“I do love you, but you already knew that. That’s not what I wanted to confess…”

She furrowed her eyebrows, wincing as if it pained her to choke these words out of her mouth.

“I fell in love because you were weak and fragile. You looked like you needed someone, and I took advantage of your vulnerability to try to be that someone. There was a time I really thought ‘I wanna leave with him’, but imagining you… actually jumping… scared me, even more than my own death.”

“You felt like you couldn’t save yourself, so you wanted to save me?”

“I’m sorry… Being there for you helped me feel important… purposeful.”

“Good for you then.”

“In a way, I saved myself trying to help you. I found myself looking forward to talking to you every day, and I started to think…”

“If you don’t want to join me, then just leave.”

“The God of Death is a cruel lover. She doesn’t love you back.”

“She does!”

I even startled myself, but she calmly shook her head.

“She wants you to think she does, because she’s always there, because you’ve never felt so intense about anything else, because she’s all you’ve ever known. She wants you to imagine no future except the one with her, so you won’t want to leave. But she doesn’t care about you. She can’t.”

I stood silently, trying to find words to refute her, but all I could do was fight back my own tears as she pulled me into her embrace. I didn’t hug her back, and the sun continued to set. Despite that, she didn’t give up.

“I could only imagine a future with that dreadful God too until I started looking forward to seeing you. Now, I can see a future with someone else instead. So, I know it’s selfish of me… And I know it’s hard… to believe that anything could ever change… But I want more time with you… Can’t you try to see a future with someone else too?”

She let me go as I stared past her at the distant, rising night, the sun still setting behind me.

“I’m tired.”

“I am too.”

Hand in hand, she pulled me away from the railing.

“So let’s go get some rest to see the sunrise tomorrow.”

I didn’t resist.