Life Tried and Death Failed

An evening ray of light carries on through the window, feeding the old buds of the flowering plant on the windowsill; the breeze sings and lends the pollen to the air, inviting it to the dance, thickening each breath. The toneless buzz of the street and the coming and going of heavy shoes from the apartment above were the only noteworthy things in my world.

Gazing felt like eternity - the reply button in sight, yet the words far from view. Yet like anticipation, as if death himself was here, my heart stopped.

“Yes,” I managed to commit, ignoring the sun smothering me.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t meet with you.”

Ignoring the suffocatingly sweet air, I’m hard pressed trying to change his answer. Curating each word carefully, conveying more than pleasantries, I make myself known to Him.

“Don’t you feel the same -“

I heard the knock on the door as it reached the same pounding as my headache from work earlier. And the party from earlier. And the day from earlier. . .

The air grew colder and my phone screen now showed I had two missed calls.

‘I should open the door.’

‘The neighbors might worry again.’

The door was now in reach and the phone still in my hand. The wind stopped.

“Hey! I’m glad you answered. I was worried about not hearing from you today.” Words bombard me with the door barely ajar. His eyes are full of life, buzzing and invading.

“You know, it’s good for you when you come out and see me.”

“I was busy.”

“I’m glad! Keeping yourself busy cooped up here. I see the plant is still going strong!” he remarks as he crosses the threshold abruptly, the door nearly slamming behind him.

“It hasn’t been doing well lately.”

“Oh? How about we give it a little more sun? Or maybe some time outside this place?”

While he walked himself to the couch, I shut the door, trying as calmly as possible, but with conspicuous desperation, to check my phone. Still no answer. My lingering feelings followed sitting down in the reading chair adjacent to him.

“Hopefully this won’t push you to do any more freelance work now. Like, I know you like freedom and the jobs that give it, but sometimes life has other plans. Some stable plans with a clearer future...”

How long was he talking? I can’t remember when he began.

He fell silent as if he finally noticed my lack of attention, his eyes brimming with conviction and sharpness that I have never seen in such intensity, almost like when he-

“Speaking of the future… We've been seeing each other for a while, yeah? Because, uh- I’ve been meaning to ask you for a long time too and I guess this might be… the best time.”

He starts to shift closer to me from his spot on the couch and brings out a small blue box with a blue ribbon from his hoodie. He presents it rather cautiously as he slowly lifts the lid to reveal a singular key.

“Ta-da!” he began after clearing his throat. He reached for my hand and placed the key in my palm. “Pretty surprised, right? I didn’t think this job would fall through so fast again and I want to help. For starters, you don’t have to worry about rent this month. And, well…”

He paused for a moment before holding the underside of my hand with his, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I want to see more of you, and share our life together. We have a good thing going that doesn’t need to end. ”

As I stared deeply into those vibrant eyes searching for what possessed him to be so bold, so tender, and so naive - and so sickening - it occurred to me, to when I met Him, and what he said with those deeply piercing eyes. Not nearly as invading, but oh so inviting.

‘You need to stop. Life is worth living. If you give that up then Thanatos might consume you whole.’

Just before he opened his lively mouth… I made my choice.

“No.”

Stunned and trying to recover quickly, he withdrew his hands and placed them on his lap as he straightened out of his slouch on the couch, unsure of us.

“I… thought we could move past that-”

“No.. I can’t keep doing this… It feels like I’m surrounded by you, yet have no space of my own.” I gripped the key harder in my hand, feeling the weight of the world as it digs deeper into my palm, air growing chillier.

“I just… don’t want to give up on you. This might be the only chance we have.” He said with an almost ethereal voice. “You can have an even better life. Freedom, fun…”

“I don’t.”

I place the key to its box and into his hands. “We tried.”

Whatever remaining vibrancy in his eye was now a desaturated gaze of sorrow. Traces of pollen lift themselves from the stale air as a cold breeze from the window sighs a long sigh.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you to. I’ve never been ruled by Eros. And you’ve done your best to change that…”

He involuntarily flinched at the word change. I guess he did feel guilt. After all, life experiences can do that to a person.

“I guess you’ve made your choice. Uh… I’ll be...” Either by guilt or embarrassment, he fled as quickly as he arrived. I'll never know which one.

Turning my attention to the growing dimness of the sun setting, I checked my phone one last time and saw the reply I was waiting for.

‘I guess you’re committed after all. I’m outside.’

I’ve always been ruled by Thanatos.

The last evening ray of light dips heavier past the window, the dried pollen weighing a branch down to the point of snapping off. The wind carries a quiet song that hollows out the buzzing alley street underneath.

There from an opposite building I see Him. His eyes looked tired with a disapproving frown as I smiled. He was right on time and he knew it.

I stepped out of the window.