The beginning of the end, the end of the beginning.

Some say that life is too short to cling to the past.
Others say that your past shapes your future.
Personally, I think all that matters is the present, or at least, that's what I used to think.

One year ago, I found her in front of my doorstep, it was a rainy day.
When I saw her, she was in wet clothes, her hair was all wet, and she was shivering from the cold, completely defenseless, I could not but fall in love with her.
However, it also meant I could do nothing but fall.

I was nothing more than a normal person.
I had a normal routine, a normal job, a normal life. It was yet another normal day until I found myself rushing back to my apartment. I left everything behind and ran as fast as my feet would take me, I even left my phone, which was still open on the screen of a LINE chat, with the final message that would mark the start of my upcoming despair. “Goodbye” was all she wrote.

But that single word said it all.
I immediately knew what it meant.
The terror in my heart was eating me whole, it left me in denial, and as though it was a sick joke, in the midst of my panic, I was thinking clearer than ever before in my life.

This blessing was a curse. This road leads many to their demise, that which people call “love”.
Was it truly worth it? Is it truly worth all the time I spent on it? Is this truly how it's going to end? Through a text with no explanation or nothing? 

Rushing back, more and more thoughts forced their way into my head. Until finally the last thought rose up and stuck in my head until I made it all the way back.
Did I really love her?
In the end, was I just using her?
What was it about, all this?
What was it about her that made me think she would be the one to save me from my regular, monotonous life?

As I entered my apartment. I kept trying to think of ways to make her change her mind. To try and make her stay with me, and prove that I could actually love her fully and unconditionally. And while all I thought about was how to stop her from leaving me, she was trying to leave life itself. 

I was such a fool.

I heard the sound of running water in the apartment, which brought me great relief knowing she was still here, meant that I had not lost completely and that I still had a shot at convincing her to stay. But little did I know, what I would see, what would befall me in there, was unlike anything I had ever seen nor experienced before. And so, with my heart pounding in my chest  I ran with every bit, every fiber of my being racing to talk to her.

I needed to make her stay. but then it hit me like a train, how much did I actually know about her? Her habits, her hobbies, her family and friends, her true self, how much of it did I really know? which drove back the question that lingered still in my mind, as though a ghost haunting me, sending shivers down my spine. Was my love real?

But then I shook my head, made up my mind, and went in.

It was one of those moments, the ones where you know what is happening, know what will happen, but deny it hoping that you convince yourself it will turn this into a normal situation, one where you misinterpret the scene in front of you and then somehow something will explain it to make it all normal.

Alas, life is quick to remind us of its sick sense of humor. How everything collapsed as the only thing to leave my mouth in a broken tone was a solemn “please”. And as though I was no more than background to her, with the most neutral of expressions on her face, she slit her wrists and let them sink into the water. As my sun was setting, all I could do was watch.

As the color in her face faded, time stopped. I must have stood there for an hour at least since by the time my senses came back to me, the water had stopped running into the bathtub, but there she lay, still motionless. My mouth, my eyes, and my throat had also run dry. I was on my knees, crying and screaming, at the sight in front of me. I only had one thought coursing through my head. “Why? Why would anyone do this?”

Three days passed since I could not bring myself to call the police. I was afraid that they would question me, and I could not bring myself to get rid of the body. 

I did not want to forget her...

No, I could not forget her, after all, during those three days all I did was research and try to understand why she did what she did by day, and then dream of her by night.
It was during these days that I met Eros and Thanatos, the callings of life and death. In short, there are two types of people in this world, those driven and wishing for the beauty of life, better known as followers of Eros, and those longing for the silent but sweet melody of death, better known as followers of Thanatos. I believed myself to be a follower of Eros, I never thought I would be able to let go of this life, even though I wanted it to change I never wanted it to end, but the more I think of her, of the look on her face as she presented herself to Thanatos, how tranquil, how peaceful. 

I sought nothing more than to join her...

No, what I wanted was to experience that, more than seeing her again I wanted to feel the peace she felt. How could she feel peace during the last seconds of her life as she actively ran a knife through her veins?
Needless to say, I also tried to return to my normal days, but my nights were filled with dreams of her. of embracing her, of embracing her ideals, of Thanatos.

And so I made up my mind. with nothing holding me back, with nothing standing in my way. I would finally meet Thanatos, the one who brings peace to your soul. so as I made my way back to that place which changed me, back to the place where I was remade, to the place where my angel laid. I felt complete after seeing her, I felt as though what I had been running from my whole life was the one truth that none could run from, I felt that only in death I could finally feel alive. So I went to her, I lay on the opposite side of the bath, I looked at her face so that it would be the last thing I see in my life, the face of the one who woke me to my true desire. I took her knife and just as she did, I cut open my wrists and let them sink into the same water as she did. 

The last thing I felt was happy.