My last night alive was a beautiful night. A black velvet sky burned by stars as bright as any good day, the air so fresh and clear it was as if the earth were breathing. A beautiful night to die.
I was out with some friends, having a good time. We were having so much fun, and I was with the love of my life.
Grant and I had been friends since we were children and lovers since we were sixteen. He's the best thing to ever happen to me. I would have died for him.
As a matter of fact, I did.
The world is a cruel place, and the people in it learn from their environments. It's survival of the fittest, the weak and useless must be culled. So, I ask you what use do two gay men have? They will not reproduce, and is that not the goal of all living creatures? Should they not be removed? Are they not taking up valuable space, breathing precious air?
Maybe this is what they were thinking. Maybe they really thought they were saving lives by doing their natural 'duty'.
But why were we chosen? Why did they have to be out the same night as us? Why did Grant and I have to go off on our own? Was it fate? Chance? Bad fucking luck?
Finding the reason won't change the outcome. I'll still be lying on this cold, unloving ground, staring up into the beautiful night with eyes that no longer see, and Grant will still be crying into my unmoving chest. He will still be sobbing out the eternal question of 'why'.
If only I could wrap my arms around him one last time, if only I could tell him I love him, if only I could have chosen another way home.
Oh, Grant, I'm so sorry. Don't cry for me, Grant. Please. Move on, live on and always remember I'll be waiting for you.
The world may be a cruel place to live in, but at least I had something to live for.