The Infinite Nothing

XV : self-euthanasia

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As Ivan stood in the shadows and watched the pinewood coffin being lowered into dark soil, he thought about how he never even got to learn Tristan's last name.

Tanya's sobs fell on deaf ears, the old man's grim expression was ignored. Ivan didn't care for the sun on his face or the smell of fresh flowers for he only saw the dark clouds gathering at the horizon and a death honoured by three people alone.

Today, Ivan had come to say hi to the dead.

Ivan didn't have it in him to cry. He had asked himself if it would help just like Tristan had done, and then he realized nothing could help him for his most precious secret had left him in a night devoid of stars. And now he was standing alone amongst people he barely knew, midst of a world he didn't belong to, thinking about how when Tristan had touched him they spoke a language no one else understood.

"What would you do if you weren't afraid?"

Tristan had smiled at him and smiled at the sky and smiled at his dirty shoes on the dusty ground covered in cigarettes. And he had asked a question Ivan had no answer to.

Watching the first shovels of dirt being tossed on him, Ivan imagined them running away to a place devoid of people and cages, no chains, no responsibilities, no sun and heat; they'd be their own warmth. Just Tristan and Ivan and the unspoken promise of forever. What a nice reality that would have been. One where Tristan was his forever.

And suddenly there was no sun warming his face anymore, and Tanya and the old man were gone, and the flowers surrounding him lacked any colour. Suddenly Ivan imagined to see the world like Tristan had, and he cried for it was so hollow and dark and without hope.

Ivan was in the infinite nothing himself, and there was no ground to stand on and no wall to lean against, there was nothing for support and no time to think of. But there was Tristan, or who Ivan thought to be Tristan, because it was nothing but an empty vessel; a coil that had fallen to its mortality, just like Tristan had always promised.

Ivan cried because he wanted to reach out and pull him in his arms, to make him feel his own heartbeat and everything he had chosen to abandon, to run his hand over his hair and tell him everything would be alright someday because other people got to be happy and even if it was just pretend happiness was it not still worthy of experiencing?

But Tristan wasn't here and Ivan was alone amidst everything and nothing. Standing at the brink of death and life, he believed to recognize what Tristan had talked about all this time, and yet it was different. Death was certain but it was not beautiful. Ivan hadn't seen it release people from their illnesses and sufferings. All Ivan knew of it was its coldness, its empty gaze and hollow words; words that cut him falling from a smile that spoke the promise of forever.

He cried for he was alone and afraid, and he knew Tristan would never smile at him again, and neither would the stars.

"What would you do if you weren't afraid?"

Wherever you have gone, I'd follow you.

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