I once met an extraordinary man. He showed me many different and amazing things, and I can easily say that I loved him. That's why it was so painful when he suddenly abandoned me, telling me that he's "just going to check something", only to disappear mere seconds later. I loved him, I truly did. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that I still do. But how could you ever stop loving a man filled with so much... everything?
And after all these years, when I'm laying in bed, waiting for the death to come, I like to think that I understand him a little bit more. And sometimes in my darkest of moments I like to think that he loved me too. That he loved me so much that he couldn't stand the thought of seeing me dying, so he left me earlier to spare himself the anguish of watching a fragile human body withering away. And as I close my eyes, feeling the endless sleep beginning to surround me I hear that distinct sound. The sound that I've come to love and yearn to hear for almost my whole life. And just as the sound died down, I heard a familiar creaking of the blue door. And just before I fell asleep one last thought went through my already hazy mind: "You mean bastard"