There Are No Happy Endings In Life

Another sleepless night, another night in which you pondered your existence. Insomnia seemed to be your companion for nights on end. You felt like Tyler Durden from Fight Club, two alter-egos clashing inside you. The nice guy being beaten up by the bad guy. Darkness taking over the partial light that you once thought you had, not so sure anymore. How long would it continue like that? This was no rhetorical question.

It was dark, you stood looking out the balcony at the night sky. The complete silence didn’t bother you, although you could feel the goosebumps rising on your skin from the cold wind. For a minute it made you feel something, you were alive. You couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard you tried, you could feel so exhausted to the point of becoming delirious. Who were you? You couldn’t say for sure. You felt distanced from the realities of this world. Surely you partook in the day to day life, activities, meandering, loving and being. Was it really you though? It didn’t feel like it. Sometimes you wish you could put into words how you truly felt, but you couldn’t. You embraced your darkness and sometimes considered it the best companion there to be.

As you were looking up at the sky, memories from your life flashed in front of your eyes. Memories that came out of nowhere, memories you never truly paid attention to and yet at random here they were, resurfacing just as real as this cold night. You remembered your first fight, first kiss, first love which you thought to be the only love you would ever experience in your life. Crying over the fact that the girl you cared for and loved so much did not reciprocate the feeling. You remembered going to the dentist with your dad, he promised if you’d be good he would take you to McDonald’s and get you a Happy Meal, you were ecstatic about it. He always fulfilled his promise, he cared for you. You remembered going on vacations with your family, being a nuisance and bugging everyone, especially your brother. You were a little brat, a little pretentious, give-me-or-i’m-crying piece of shit. You had this entitlement that got to your head, you don’t anymore, at least not to that extent. Although, you do sometimes feel like your detachment from the outside world should be admired. Memories kept flashing before your eyes as you absentmindedly stared at the sky. You were freezing, the convulsions going through your body felt like those of a man that’s just about to die. Synapses doing their one last job of trying to revive what is long gone and lost. But, you were not yet gone, not yet. You felt so lost and empty. All this emptiness inside you. You kept standing there until you heard her whisper behind you in a sleepless voice “Are you still awake? What’s the matter?” These questions resuscitated you from your unconsciousness into the real world, where you instantly became aware of the present moment.

You turned to her and just looked at her. She was standing covered in a blanket, her hair a mess, she was a natural beauty. You preferred her mess over all the masked fabricated beauty.

You responded — “Can’t fall asleep that’s all.”

She was the one you were supposed to love, according to how things were between you both, you would be considered a couple. You’ve been seeing each other for 4 months and you haven’t told her yet the “I love you” part. Which ofttimes you wondered if she minded or stressed over. Sure you liked her, it was fine and all, but you couldn’t grasp much beyond that physical bonding. She still didn’t completely know you, you haven’t opened up. You were a closed book. Whereas you knew her likes and dislikes, she did open to you. She shouldn’t have.

“Aren’t you freezing out there? Come inside, I’ll make us some tea if you want.” — she said.

“You go on. I’ll be there in a minute.” you responded and turned again to face the scenery.

“Okay, but don’t take too long.”

It was cold, you could feel a stingy pain in your fingers as you clenched your fist and released. You loved the cold over warmth any-day, anytime. Meanwhile you wondered what freezing to death would feel like. Were you in the wrong mind to think of that? Death? Your obsession with death was intrinsic. You were used to imagine scenarios of how you might die. Freezing to death seemed a bit anticlimactic. You heard her call out to you, the tea was ready.

You came inside the kitchen and she was already sitting on the chair at the table that could not seat more than two people at the same time. It was a small kitchen, but you liked the minimalism and confinement of the space. She had already poured the tea in the cups and was starting to add some sugar to her’s, then she asked you if you wanted some.

“No, thanks” — you replied coldly.

She took then her cup and covered in her blanket grasped the scent of the hot tea. You just took a sit across her and looked at her. She had something that caught your attention from the first time you met her on the bus. Seated across you just like you were now. Her purse in her lap, her hands one on top of the other, she kept looking out the window at the passersby. You watched her awaiting for the moment when both of your eyes would meet. You saw her sketching a smile as she caught sight of you looking at her. You smiled back, looking straight into her eyes. Eventually she gave in and shifted her sight again out the window as the bus kept slowly but steadily moving forward. You looked at her and paid attention to every detail of her face. Her eye color, that of greenish-blue, her dark hair, reddish lips, thin eyebrows, accentuated cheekbones, pale skin, carefully dressed. She was beautiful no doubt, but that was only what you could read from what she portrayed to the world. Everyone could see the good clothing taste she had, and the natural beauty she was blessed with. That was good, but you wanted to know her more. So you did, you got off at the same stop she did and told her how you wanted to know her better. Now here she is in your kitchen, drinking tea with you at 3 in the morning on a Saturday.

She breaks the silence and asks you “So what were you doing out there?”

“Looking at the stars pretty much. Thinking.”

“Thinking of what?”

“I don’t know. Of myself I guess. Of who I’ve become, what’s next.”

“And what’s next?”

“I honestly have no clue. Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be something else for me, I’m not so sure.”

“Why’s that?”

“I mean, honestly it might sound weird but don’t you ever get tired?”

“Sure thing I do, with all the work and… ”

I interrupted her — “No, I mean don’t you ever just get tired of being? Don’t you get tired of existing?”

“I’m not so sure I follow.”

“Don’t you ever think of the time when you will no longer be. And there will be no worries of being the person you are in the society you are a part of. No pressures to fulfill a role, to become someone, to land that job and accomplish one thing, then another and another. An interminable list of what to-do and who to be.”

“Do you mean, don’t I wish to be dead?” — she laughed.

“Yeah, I guess. Don’t you think of that? Dying?”

“What is there to think about? For I am alive I’ll worry about the alive things. Sure sometimes it is too much to handle and it would be nice to not go through all this crap, but giving up on life is giving up on the things I enjoy like books, cinema, music, picnics, the act of loving someone.”

“But you will always miss out on something, sure because you are aware of it the thought of your favorite things to stop is scary. At the same time, you will never get enough of it nor will you be truly fulfilled or happy. That’s what I don’t get…how do you keep going without feeding the illusions that we are so accustomed to?”

“I don’t know what to tell you to that. I really don’t.”

“I know. I don’t mean to sound so pessimistic, I do wish I could think and feel and experience things in another way. I do wish the person that is inside me would not be, or would be someone completely different. But, I don’t think I can change any of that, not after all this time being this way. It’s my fault. It’s hard to see any light when for so long darkness kept you companionship. I think I forgot what love, joy or being carefree even feels like. I’ve given up on life long before I could even really taste it. A stranger in a strange land. I do think I’m a living dead. I do think it’s all pointless, there is no hope or salvation. I do dream of dying and ending this pain. I do feel bad about thinking about it, but I do also think even radical solutions like that is not in essence wrong or bad. I want to feel anything besides this void inside me, I want to feel love and I can’t. It’s all just transient, even you and me. I mean what were the chances of us being together now and here? I wish I could tell you I love you but I would just be lying, because I don’t. I haven’t loved for a long time, I don’t want to sugarcoat you with words and make believe. I’m being real and it might be a bit harsh coming like that from me, but that’s the weirdo I am. I gave up on myself. You made a wrong bet with me, I can’t give you what you want.”

You took a pause and looked at her. She was just staring at you for awhile and then kept looking away. She didn’t say a word, you were wondering what was going on inside her head. What was she thinking? Was that too much too soon? How mad was she? Disappointed? Betrayed? Hurt? She must be feeling something, what was it? The moment of silence that followed you did not know what to do, you felt like there was nothing more to add. Until after a few minutes which felt like hours she just stood up and went into the bedroom. No words. You didn’t try to stop her, you let her go.

After you lingered for awhile you followed her passing through the narrow hall to the bedroom. She was laying there in complete silence. You expected to hear her sob, but nothing of that sorts. She was just laying curled in the bed. You went to the window and looked outside, those stars and the moon shining so brightly. That same night sky you’ve been admiring for so many years. Somehow this night made it all the more special. This was the night you thought. And so it was.

“I am sorry.” — you said in a languished tone

“Yes, me too.” — she replied

You went to the balcony, and jumped out. Just like that, no notes necessary, no explanations needed. The few seconds of free falling from an 8 storied building gave you the instant epiphany of being “free” which in a matter of seconds lost you forever. Time lost you, you got rid of yourself, and the world did not know what to make of it. This was your life, there were no happy endings, but there was an end to the person you once were and to the things you might have lived. You ended yourself. Life ended itself through you.