Armed With A Mind

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

So I didn’t know what to say when he asked me if I really wanted to die. The obvious answer was, yes, yes, yes, of course I do, you fool, that’s why I climbed all these stairs, […] but there’s another answer, too, isn’t there? And the other answer is, no, of course I don’t, you fool. Please stop me. Please help me. Please make me into the kind of person who wants to live, the kind of person who has a bit missing, maybe. The kind of person who would be able to say, I am entitled to something more than this. Not much more; just something that would have been enough, instead of not quite enough. Because that’s why I was up there - there wasn’t quite enough to stop me.