‘You remember i told you my dad was sick?’
‘It doesn’t seem to be getting better. And now my sister might have to go abroad for work so it’s just my mom to take care of him. But it’s okay, we can still pull through, there’s too much to be grateful for,’
Greyson held his friend’s shoulder, and for a long moment just looked into his friend’s eyes. There was nothing he could say, he just kept nodding small nods, but his eyes conveyed what his heart felt. Then he squeezed his hand and let it drop.
‘The car’s approaching. I see it. You ready?’
Their expressions turned to stone once more and Troy checked his watch as the car pulled up and the driver stepped out, followed by his passenger.
‘Gentlemen, on time as usual. You two got everything?’
The two men nodded and the four of them turned to enter the building.
In some ways death is better than growing apart, because with the first you know there is no chance at all of reliving the past. But when the friends you spent years with grow up and move on with life, and you meet again, there is that sliver of hope that things would go back to the way they used to. You’d stay late with them, head home together, hang out some weekends, do stuff together, always know what went on in one another’s lives.
But that’s all gone. Their priorities have changed, they have new people in their lives and heck, they might not even miss the old days as much as you do.
The hope is dashed, you savour this fleeting moment when they are all still comfortable seated around here and not ready to rush off somewhere. Or at least you hope that’s what they’re feeling.
Then you are faced with disappointment when you look at them closely and see they’re not the people they used to be. Some of them smoke now, a few have put on too many pounds, one has too many piercings, a couple of them might be balding, and you wonder how they see you.
It’s never going to be the same again. You will always have moments of hope that will inevitably end in massive disappointment, you will be lifted high only to be slammed down again, and perhaps once, just once, you wonder… Would it all be better if they just died? That way you could mourn the loss and it would stay that way, forever and ever, until it was your turn to go. Consistency, predictability, and a clear purpose. My friends are dead, i will pray for them, i will visit their graves, and that is the cycle. They aren’t coming back, but i’ll join them one day. Soon.
You won’t be wrong to conclude that sometimes death improves the quality of our relationships, or at least our perceived satisfaction from it.