This story is very personal to me. It took me a year and a half to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have, and I hope you take away what is meant to be taken.

Sometimes, death could be such a beautiful thing.

It could open a door into a new life, a life worth living… a life without all the pains and hardships that one has to go through every single day. Without death, then there is no life and no point to live. We live our lives in anticipation for our deaths. Ironic, isn’t it? We live to die. There is nothing which rings more true, however, than that. At the point of our deaths, we ask ourselves if the life we lived was worth it and if we lived to the fullest extent of our abilities. While regret in life could dampen the joy that is death, it should be true that you had no regrets when you finally died. You were satisfied with the life that you lived… I only wish that I could feel the same.

I remember what you said to me once. It was only a week or so ago, yet the wisdom and truth that lives within its words makes me believe that it is much older. I never understood what you meant by it. Now, that I am sitting in the trauma center of the hospital, my hands and fingernails infested with your blood and my blue shirt drenched in the red essence, I can finally understand what you had told me.

“You can’t hide your heartbreak, Dave. I can always see it in your eyes, constantly smashing into a million pieces, over and over again. Such a painful thing can’t be easily masked, especially with eyes like yours.”

How right you were. I could never hide it, no matter how hard I tried. I have always been constantly told how sad my eyes looked all the time, how my pain could be seen swirling around in my brown orbs. You especially liked to stare into my eyes and tell me exactly how I was feeling. You could read me in a second just by looking into me. You had always told me that I never wore my heart on my sleeve, I showed it off in my eyes. “…and when you have a heart that’s always broken, you can only imagine how utterly pained your eyes look all the time”, I remember you saying. As you journeyed closer to your death, your senses over me intensified. You could read me so easily, as if you had come to appreciate me silently as your body soon began to fail. The months leading to now were hard on me, so extremely hard. How can they expect me to handle watching you die, slowly and painfully? I can only imagine how horrible my eyes must have looked during your final weeks and how hard it must have been for you to look into them.

I’m watching them try to resuscitate you, watching as they’re trying to pump the blood back into your bleached body, watching as they’re pulling out the shockers to start your heart back up. Nurses are frantically running back and forth, the blood on their hands the same as the blood on mine. Doctors are barking commands and all I can really hear is the flat lined drone of the heart monitor.

One shock. You’re still flat lining.

Second shock. Flat lining.

Third shock. Flat.

Your ring is still in my hands, jumping from finger to finger as I fidget in my seat. I’m waiting for it to be over. I want it to end. Breathing is becoming difficult for me. I want it to be over. The seconds are racing past. I need to breathe.

I breathe in. The flat drone continues on. They’ve given up the shockers now. I breathe out. The doctor steps back and looks at the clock. 11:32 pm, he says. I breathe in. They’re pulling a sheet over your body. The doctor finds my eyes. I breathe out. He shakes his head and takes off his bloodied gloves. I breathe in. Your ring falls to the floor. The doctor is in front of me now. I breathe out. Silence. I breathe in. I breathe out.

You’re dead.

There is Poetry in Despair

Chapter 1

His name was Hayden.

The love of my life, the man that made me wake up in the morning with a smile on my face, the one that I would die for. Hayden Bryce. I loved him more than anything, more than words could ever describe. He changed my life in so many ways. Before I met him, I was bitter, cold, and I hated the world that I lived in. A few days into my life and he managed to throw it all away, never to be thought of again. I don’t know what it was about him but when we first met, he was like this impenetrable strength that could cause my whole world to shake. You had to have seen him then… he was so happy, so spontaneous. A day with him was like an intense roller coaster. You would never know what spin would come next or what drop you were about to descend on. He was my oxygen, my world, just utterly… my everything.

Hayden was sick.

I was on my way to his apartment, a fresh lunch in my hands and new medication for him to take. Sad, really… it was all his life had become. Sleep, eat, and take his medicine. They were pumping drugs into his body like clockwork. Every three hours on the dot, the same pills were to be taken. It was a never ending cycle. Well, there was to be an end, but that was something that I didn’t care to think about then. Hayden hated the medicine, naturally. Soon, he began to dislike everything around him. His impulsiveness was lost, his lively demeanor cast away, and his smiles disappeared into frowns and scowls. Depression sunk in too deep within his mind to be rooted out and not even the anti-depressants would change that.

It was a cold, breezy day in Berkeley, the city where we met, the city that we fell in love in, the city that was Hayden’s home. The sun made my face warm while the sharp bursts of freezing wind made me shiver. I remember thinking to myself that Hayden hopefully turned on the heater for himself. With his apartment overlooking the bay, it would get so chilly in there. The cold wasn’t good for him, especially with his weak immune system. Sometimes, he liked to disregard the fact that he was so sick. He would act as if he were perfectly healthy and didn’t need anything at all. Hayden had become so stubborn, so completely oblivious to the fact that things had to change. That’s what I was there for, to make sure that he was taken care of. It was my job… it was my life. I promised myself that as long as Hayden was alive, I would be there by his side to help him. It was a promise that I haven’t faltered on since day one, no matter how much pain it caused me. Being by Hayden’s side so often was a hard task, one that would drain me completely.

Even though I enjoyed helping Hayden… sometimes it just seemed so empty to me.

It wasn’t always like this. I remembered the day when we first met. It was just a few years ago, yet in those days it seemed like that was such a long time back…

The record store was just one of my favorite places to be. I went there on a weekly basis, buying vinyl albums and CDs or to just look around. That day was no different than the rest. It was a lazy, warm Saturday and I had nothing better to do and nothing in mind. In those days, I wasn’t very friendly and I didn’t have many people to associate myself with. I had the occasional friend here and there, but I just felt no desire to socialize. I felt that I was better on my own. It had been proven to me many times before that people weren’t worth getting to know. I had a rough time in school because of my different appearance and musical tastes. I suppose you could say that my people skills definitely needed working on. I hadn’t had many intimate relationships and I hated to go on dates. The lonely life was one that I preferred.

I was walking up and down the aisles, looking past the artists that I knew too well. Whose album would I buy today? I was always up for experimentation, always looking for new music to get into. It was my escape from the world I had grown to dislike too much. I stopped at the new wave section and began filing through CDs, looking for an artist I’d never heard of. I was humming to myself, minding my own business when I felt a sharp tap to my shoulder. I turned around and met a pair of glittering hazel eyes, teamed with a delicate, friendly face. Before I could really think of anything, he began to speak.

“Hi! Need any help?” he asked in a cheery tone. He was so loud, so peppy. My eyes widened and I actually wanted to laugh at him.

“Um, no… but thanks.” I said quietly, turning back around to the CDs. He tapped my shoulder again and I quickly looked back, slightly annoyed to see him still smiling at me.

“Because I know all about new wave. It’s my addiction. I’m new here. My name is Hayden.” he said, taking my hand before I could extend it myself and shaking it. I shook back weakly, staring at him in an odd manner. He was very eccentric, very lively. It annoyed me. I really wanted him to just leave me alone.

“Well, Hayden, thank you, but I don’t need any help.” I said, offering a polite but stern smile. Before I could even turn back, he stepped right in front of me, blocking my view of the CDs.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his very happy voice beginning to really irritate me.

“Positive.” I grunted.

“Are you really positive?”

“Yes! Go away!”

“Because we had this new David Bowie vinyl come in. I think you’d like it.”

I had to admit, that caught my attention.

“A Bowie vinyl?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmm. Kinda rare. We keep it in the back. Wanna take a look at it?”

I looked at Hayden in his eyes, wondering how one person could be as joyful about something as simple as helping a customer out. He seemed positively enthralled in making me happy and he didn’t even know who I was. Such compassion was foreign to me. I took note of his blissful face, his lips upturned in a bright smile. Honestly, I just couldn’t say no to that face.

“Sure. Let’s see it.” I said, sighing. Hayden grinned and walked past me to head to the back of the store. He returned a few moments later with the vinyl in his hands, looking as happy as ever.

“It’s used, but the condition is really great. I bet you’re gonna want to listen to it anyway.” Hayden said, handing me the record. I looked down and smiled to myself. It was definitely something I’d been looking for.

“Okay, I’ll take it.” I said, handing it back to him.

“Awesome, I’ll ring you up over here.” Hayden said, walking over to the counter. I followed him, shaking my head to myself. I really needed to learn to actually let people help me sometimes. As Hayden was doing all the registering needs, I was looking at a display of small switchblades for sell. I was a hardcore kid back then and I had always wanted a switchblade. These had great designs and colors on them. I picked one up that had a crimson handle with black flames etched on it. I flicked it open, admiring the sharp clean blade. I snapped it closed and placed it on the counter.

“Can I have the blade, too?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure. Your total is gonna be $40.67.”

I gave him the money and watched as he returned my change. He handed me all my things in a bag and smiled again.

“Thanks a lot.” I said, offering a small wave and turning to leave. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to face him, an inquisitive look on my face. What was he going to say now?

“Hey, I never caught your name.” he said, smirking.

“Oh, it’s Dave”

“Nice to meet you, Dave. I’ll be seeing you again soon.” Hayden told me. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him strangely.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Hayden grinned again before he turned around to walk away.

“Just a feeling.” he said over his shoulder.

I went home confused and touched in a way. I couldn’t explain why, but somehow Hayden had left an impression on me. On my walk home, all I could think about were the things he said to me, the way he smiled, and his last remark. Maybe he meant that he would see me in the record store again? I didn’t know, but whatever it was really made me think. Not only that, but I felt rather foolish for being so stuck on someone I had only known for about ten minutes. Still, that didn’t stop his face from haunting my mind. He was nice looking… he had beautiful eyes and a nice voice.

When I arrived home, the first thing I wanted to do was listen to my new record. I went over to my record player and took the vinyl out of the bag. As I slowly slid the black disc out of the packages, a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I bent down to pick it up when I noticed writing on the other side. I flipped it over, reading what it said.

“Don’t you want to find out how I knew you liked David Bowie? Discuss it during dinner?

Sincerely,

Hayden”

His message was followed by a phone number. My heart made a jump and I placed the paper down on my coffee table, shaking my head. No way. He was way too peculiar and hyper for me. I would want to kill him in a heart beat. Plus, dating really wasn’t my thing.

…but how did he know that I was into guys?

I had to admit, the whole thing had me really confused. It was just one of those weird things that become stuck in your head, like a stranger who smiles at you on the street or when spot a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. I tried to put it behind me, tried to forget about the note and just listen to my music. He wasn’t my type, I wasn’t into dating, and I wasn’t looking for a new friend. I tried to stop thinking about how his statement about seeing me soon and how he seemed to know so much about me regardless of the few words that I spoke to him. He was probably just some weird guy, anyway. Not even worth my time.

The paper with his number stayed on my coffee table for a week. Even though I decided not to call him and forget that I ever met him, I didn’t have the heart to throw it away. I would stare it whenever I watched TV, ate breakfast, listened to music, and read. I stared at it so often that I even had his number memorized. It would randomly come to me during the oddest moments, like when I was in the shower or when I was about to fall asleep. It was down right annoying, but pretty soon I actually wanted to call him. I would constantly replay our scene together in my head, sometimes smiling to myself at how adorable he seemed. I didn’t even want to go into the record store because I was nervous about seeing him again. It was amazing how sprung I was.

Finally, two weeks after I first met Hayden, I stared at his number again and picked up the phone next to me. I quickly dialed the memorized numbers and waited quietly while it rang. I was suddenly very nervous, very anxious. What was I going to say? Was I really going to ask him out on a date? He picked up the phone and I had to clear my throat to talk.

“Hey, Hayden? This is Dave.” I said. I heard him chuckle softly on the other end.

“About time! I was waiting for you to call me.”

I bit my lip, at a loss for what to say.

“You there?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah… it’s just… you want to go to dinner… or something?”

“I sure would. Friday night sound good? You pick the place.” he said

“Yeah, that’s actually perfect. I’ll call back with details.”

“Sounds great. I’ll talk to you later then?”

“Absolutely. Bye, Hayden.”

“Bye.”

It was as simple as that… it’s amazing how things are just so complicated now…

I approached his complex and made my way up to his apartment. I went up these cold metal stairs at least three times every single day. It took twelve steps, a turn, and then another twelve to get to his door. His apartment became my second home, if not my first. I could have sworn that I was at his place more often than mine. The hollow clangs of my feet against the cold metal steps became a sound too familiar to me, the graffiti on the walls that I saw every day became images embedded into my mind. Much like Hayden with his medicine, this was a daily routine for me. We both were living our lives as automated schedules. Every single day was like the same pantomime to be played out in the same formation.

His door came into sight and I took my keys out of my pocket. I balanced the bag of food on my knee and slid the key in the lock. His door was a little tough and I would always have to turn the key back and forth before it would open.

One turn. Second turn. Push the door open with my foot and I’m in.

His apartment was dark and very icy. It looked like night time in there compared to the bright day outside. I sighed despairingly and set all of my things on the floor. Just a regular day in the life of Hayden. He was probably sitting in a corner, pondering about the days he’s lost and the life that he used to live. Leave it up to him to be so pessimistic.

“Hayden?” I called, removing my jacket and tossing it over his arm chair. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark and I was looking for his shape in the living room, roaming over all the corners and all over the floor.

“Hayden? I brought your lunch.” I said, continuing to look around. My eyes settled on the huge bay window that was in the back of the room. The dark curtains were drawn shut, cutting out any light that could’ve brightened up the room. A small crack of sun filtered through where the curtains met and I could see the outline of his frail shape sitting in front of it. I sighed again and walked forward, staring at his back. He had lost so much weight recently. He was sitting cross legged, staring at the black nothing in front of him.

“Hayden… it’s freezing in here… and let in some light, it’s a gorgeous day.” I sternly pointed out, reaching past him to throw the curtains open. I looked down and saw my pale love, clenching his eyes shut at the sudden appearance of light. I smiled softly and bent my head down to kiss his forehead. He didn’t acknowledge the gesture. He never does. I ran my hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp softly. He used to have it dyed and in a mohawk. Now it was just his natural brown and messy. He had a blanket wrapped around him and the sun made his hazel eyes sparkle. His once lively eyes…

“How are you feeling today?” I asked, pulling the blanket around him tighter, making sure that his chest was nice and covered.

“Like absolute shit. What else is new?” he replied in a monotone voice. Nothing that I wasn’t used to.

“I brought your favorite, a sandwich from the vegan restaurant that you love so much.” I told him, turning around to get the food that I had brought him.

“I hate that place.” he whispered.

“No, you don’t, you love it. We used to go there all time.”

“Do I have to take my medicine today?” he asked.

“As always, Hayden.”

This was normal conversation. He would claim to hate the food I brought him, although I only picked the places that he loves the most. He wouldn’t want to take the medicine. I replied with the same answer every day.

I came back with his sandwich and food for myself. I sat next to him closely, missing the feel of his body. We used to cuddle together all the time in front of this very window, looking over the same view of the blue bay. We loved to watch the boats race by and the people walking below. Hayden made me admire the simple things like that. Now, he just stared off at the sky, ignoring all the life below him. I put his sandwich and plate in front of him and he stared at it for a moment before picking it up to begin eating it.

“Did you sleep well last night?” I inquired, taking a bite out of my own sandwich.

“Surprisingly, yes.” he said after swallowing.

“Good, good. The more sleep you get, the more strength you’ll have in the day.”

“I suppose so… I started to write something today.”

I smiled, looking at him. Hayden doing something productive? That’s something I haven’t seen in a long time. He used to love writing and painting. He hadn’t done anything like that in a long time. It was a very good sign.

“Really? What is it?” I asked.

He shrugged, putting his half finished sandwich back on the plate.

“Nothing special. I guess you could call it a journal. I just write about random things.”

“That sounds interesting. Will I ever be able to read it?” I asked. To see what was on Hayden’s mind would be miraculous. He never let me in on his thoughts anymore. I was always left to guessing about everything. He stayed silent for a moment, pondering his answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” he said quietly, staring off into the bay again.

“Maybe?”

“When I’m dead.”

I swallowed my food and stared at him. Sometimes the things that came out of his mouth shocked me… left me completely speechless. He shouldn’t have been talking like that. I hated it whenever he mentioned death, absolutely hated it. It wasn’t something that I wanted to hear and he knew it. I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say to that. What can you say to something like that? I put my food down and got up, leaving him to his morbid thoughts. I returned with a small plastic case filled with all his medication and a glass of water.

“I don’t want to take them.” he said in a strong voice.

“You have to.”

“I don’t want to.” he said more sternly.

“Hayden! I’m not going to fight you on this, you have to.”

“You say that every single day…” he muttered.

“Yeah, and you always end up taking the pills anyway. You have to take them, they’re going to make you feel better.” I exclaimed, really beginning to get angry. Why could he just not fight with me for once?

“What’s the point? I’m going to die anyway.”

I suddenly threw the case onto the floor, gritting my teeth. Hayden winced and looked up at me. I was breathing heavily, not even daring to look at him. It was too painful to look at him. I hated the person he had become. I was soon growing sick of this daily routine. I was really tiring from it all. The same things were said every single day, the same tones used, the same hopes and dreams destroyed. It never used to be like this. Our days were filled with warmth and love. Now, it was just priorities. Hayden continued to stare at me, probably feeling bad for hurting me. I didn’t care if he felt bad. I just didn’t care anymore.

“Just… take your medication, please. Do it for me. For once, just do something for me.” I whispered in a trembling voice, closing my eyes.

Hayden sighed, slowly taking the glass of water out of my hand. He popped open the case and starting putting pills into his mouth and swallowing some water. I finally looked down, making sure he took each one. He made a sickened face after swallowing his last one and handed me the glass of water.

“Thank you. Now, I’m going back to work. I’ll be back at night to give you your dinner, okay?” I said, walking away.

“Okay.”

I picked up my jacket and put it on before looking back at Hayden. He went back to staring at the bay, though he probably wasn’t registering anything that he was looking at. It really pained me to watch.

“I’ll see you tonight.” I said, opening the door and stepping out. Hayden said nothing.

“I love you.” I called out. Hayden said nothing.

As I turned my back to leave I could hear him drawing his curtains shut again. I closed the door behind me and collapsed with my back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor. I exhaled a long, shaky breath that I’d been holding in for too long. God, it killed me to see him like that. I wanted my old Hayden back. I knew I had to be strong for him, I had to be supporting him but it was just so hard sometimes. I wondered if he still loved me at all, if Hayden even understood just how much he hurt me when he ignored me. I knew that it wasn’t entirely his fault, but couldn’t he just pretend to be happy?

No, he couldn’t pretend. That was my job. Hayden was the reality. I was the fantasy.

Pick yourself up, Dave. Be tough. This is your life now. You were never supposed to be happy anyway.

I listened to my words and stood up on shaky legs. I breathed for a moment, clearing my mind and calming myself down. It was time to live life. I straightened out my clothes, smoothed my hair, and began my decent down those cold metal stairs. I would come back up these stairs in a few hours anyway, come back to Hayden, feed him, fight him on his medicine and force him to take them. Nothing’s changed, nothing will change, and this is how it will all end.

This was my life, after all.