The Ultimate Choice

Me, Myself, and Her (Episode-I)

'The Ultimate Choice'

"Why did you come this time?" she asked me playfully.
"I wanted to speak up." I promptly replied; honestly for once.

"Go ahead. I'm listening." She began to seem more serious.
"No." I took the playful turn, "You ask."

"Fair enough," she mumbled, "Where shall I start?"
"From the beginning." I murmured leaning backward into the super-comfy chair.

- What's your first thought everyday? When you wake up.
- "Damn it! One more day to go." Though a single thought helps me through the day: the possibility that maybe -just maybe- this is it, this is the last one, I just need to go through one more day.

- Don't you believe in God?
- Definitely not. Why would you follow up with such a question?

- I believe that our souls do not die. We're going to end up either in heaven with the Lord, or elsewhere.
- Stop it! Please stop it! That is too frightening for me to handle. What? No end? Death is the only beautiful dream that I have left. The statistical certainty of death is what helps me sleep peacefully. The idea that I might sleep and not wake up is so exquisite that I tell myself: Yeah go ahead and get up, maybe this is it, this is the last one. I can genuinely claim that the thought -nay, the fact- that everything is eventually going to end —to die, is the only motivation that I possess in this life. Please, don't take this from me.

- Is this what frighten you the most?
- No. There is this other idea that keeps knocking on my head. It is too dark, even in my terms. Imagine that I got into an accident of some sort, or got a disease. Then it got me crippled or somehow handicapped. I imagine myself laying on a foreign bed, in a bizarre room, by myself. I gaze up at the faint lamps in the middle of a slow and dusty ceiling fan. I hereby alone, facing only a single idea: whether to kill myself or to suffer an excruciating misery of a life. No distractions, no one around, and even the friendly walls of my apartment are not there to console me. Just me and myself. Between two bitter deaths. Alongside a single choice to make. A final one. 

- Can we stop here? .. Please.
- Yeah sure. Let's resume later. 

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