Infinity

 Every time you walk out the front door, every time since i was three years old, I fear it'll be the last time I see you alive, the last time you cross the border between that door of pseudo-safety and the outside world full of bad things and sad happenings. 

Ah, the outside world with its dangerous events and its paralyzing unpredictability. How I loathed stepping out. How I feared for your safety. 

How ironic that you hung yourself to death in our room. I don't know where to look or go anymore. The house has menacing eyes that stare at me, after your demise. The outside world has snarling teeth. The only place that smells, falsely, of safety, is the place I think you've migrated to. 

And so i go, too. Death has always terrified me in the past, now it seems like solace and comfort. I hope to find you again. Little do I know death is but an eternal repetition of life itself. The worst kind of purgatory. So I watch you hang from the noose infinite times over, and I follow suit infinite times over. 

I loathe and love death infinite times over. I don't know what the point of this story is. All I know is, I'm jotting this down before I have to go again. Before I'm born again, before we die again. 

My fear of the outside world was foolish and naive. My fear of the house was stupid. My fear of losing you was the only thing that I felt pulsating, every second of every waking hour. No, even in sleep. Do not fear death, fear life. Death is life in a sly cloak. Death is life dragging your drowning body to the shore only to throw you back in when you think you've spit out all the water. Death is nothing and everything.

I watch you hang yourself for the 2546472th time. It does not hurt any less. I have a feeling that I'm not supposed to remember any of this each time. I do not know how to break this cycle. Maybe it isn't mine to break. Maybe infinity is all there is. Maybe you're me and I'm you and none of this makes any sense. Maybe. 

Goodbye now, before I plunge into the water once more. As I plunge, I feel momentary relief. A lifetime of pain and panic for a second of exhilaration. Infinite lifetimes for infinite seconds. Infinite pain in exchange for infinite yous. 

Learn from this what you will. I have no lessons to teach and nothing more to say. I play with the small details each time, try out the butterfly effect, see if it changes anything, but in the end I walk in on your limp body all the same. I am the universe, I feel. Insignificant and the only thing that ever mattered. And I am helpless. 

Save me.