Sometimes people create fantasies, to escape what is that truly bothers them. They create a world as it should be, to erase the world as it is, because they simply can't take it.
We blame others for our misfortune, for our pain and loneliness, but if you take a better look at it, it's us; us scratching the wound so it bleeds badly, then blaming the doctor he never took care of it. Then comes the infection, and you hate people around you, because you have a wound and they don't. You were stupid enough to scratch it, but they were too smart to.
Now I realized why Death wouldn't visit me. He knew he couldn't feel, and had pushed it to the limits to feel for me. Now he probably felt...thought sorry he couldn't live up to my expectations and he was stupid enough to scratch his own wound. I wondered if he would ever know I could treat this wound, once and for all.
On the other hand, when people posses something we don't, whether it's a blessing or curse, we feel jealous we don't posses it. Just like the children, infamous for their greed. But when you come to think about it, they only ask for things they've seen others posses. For example, give your child an expensive toy, and allow it to take it to school. Chances are, when it comes back, another kid, who saw the toy and wanted one, will have broken or stolen it. So you end up with a crying child and an empty pocket.
My so-called brother and fiance would now visit me every day, bringing roses and chocolates with them. I didn't ask questions. I didn't have to. Time is the most reliable consultant, Conscience would say. And for once I listened to her and she was proved right. One Friday came a lawyer with some papers for me to sign. He read them aloud, because I couldn't read. Turns out I had a fortune, one big enough to buy a cottage in Massachusetts and live there with my five hundred butlers.
Now I realized why these men came, claiming to be people who once knew and loved me. I had a toy, and they wanted it. And I gave it to them. As simple as that. Because I didn't care. It didn't matter.
People spent their lives gathering money, clothes, homes, children. If only one of them had realized this one, simple thing. This which I, in my deathbed, waiting patiently for the end, realize; None of your money, homes, cars, clothes, not even your friend or children will follow you in the other side. But love will. Happiness will. All your feelings and good times will.
Truth is, not even Death knows what happens after he comes. So, whatever it is, you had better make the experience worth it, for no one knows what will follow. Father had once told me Ancient Greeks used to say "never call a person happy, until you see how they die"...And now I could finally appreciate their wisdom.
Now, just as the sun was going down, right before the pale moon began it's journey through a cloudy sky, I had understood. I had realized; I couldn't go on.