Inevitable

I wish you never trusted me. Never assumed I would get my act together. I wish you never trusted me with the future, with life.

You were hopeful and naïve since childhood. Always tried your best to believed life would improve if you just held on long enough, devouring delusional silver spoonfuls of quotes like “in the end everything will be okay, if it’s not okay it’s not the end”. Well, hunny, it’s the end. And here we are.

I knew I was too stupid. Too lazy. Too neurotic. Unfocused. Undiscipline. Inconsistent. Mix that with an addictive personality. Destined by the starts to be a deadbeat.

Are you surprised? Why? I’m not. I’m not naïve enough to wish for a fairytale ending like you. To believe you can plead with fate. I saw this coming from a mile away. Anytime you tried something, I fucked it up. A Greek tragedy. This was inevitable.

You tried too hard. You always tried. Dreamt of a better life. Gulping down faith for every last drop in the bottle.

When mom was sick, you thought you could heal her. You believed her health would improve, even though you watched it deteriorate every day. Even though I told you not to keep your hopes up every day. Always too credulous that things would improve. And, when she died, like I knew she would, you were destroyed. Even after I warned you, she would. You refused to listen to me. Even though I knew. And it left you crippled for months.

But even after that, you always fought me. You childish idiot. We could have avoided so much pain, if you listened when I told you to stop, to end this. You didn’t. You even convinced me that life would get better. You dragged us though high school, told me that all I needed to do was focus and stay out of trouble. Told me you believed in me. I could get better, and I believed it too. Maybe it would have been if it wasn’t for Nick that night. It’s my fault I brought us there. I convinced you to keep drinking, to have fun, smoke that blunt, to follow him… I didn’t think that he’d… I didn’t think. Why did you trust me?

I was sure, now, now you would finally listen to me and end it. But you’re a stubborn one. Even after that you forgave me! You thought it wasn’t my fault. Still having obstinate determination to fight for us. You convinced me, convinced me that one day I’d quit chasing the high, chasing a momentary moment of bliss. Stop making my dad and brother’s life miserable. Kept hoping that one day we’d walk to their front porch with enough money to pay the mortgage. You didn’t give up even though I told you how this would end. I told you we should stop everyone’s suffering before it gets worse. But you believed things would change. You trusted that I wouldn’t make things worse. Even though you had no evidence that I wouldn’t. What’s that saying? The definition of insanity? Same story over and over again. Now look.

I stared at the boy lying on the concrete, blood streaming from his head. He was thrown out his vehicle through the windshield. Couldn't have been older than 17. I wonder what his life was like... what his life would have been if it wasn’t for me? If I hadn’t started my car. If I hadn’t taken those pills. If I hadn’t existed.

I look around. At the chaos I created. At the horror the bystanders witnessed. I listened to the blaring police and firefighter sirens. I watched the medics franticly approaching my car. I pitied them. They’re urgent attempts to change the inevitable, like you always did. I watched as they pulled you out of the car to attempt CPR before they realized I’m already dead. I watched them drag my lifeless body into a black body bag instead. You look so cold. Never should have trusted me. Good riddance.