muse:disappearing.

inspired by deadline, by chris crutcher.

muse:
i know that at the end of this year, i'm going to be gone. dead. out like a light. and i've kept it a good secret to tell at the millions of parties that i haven't gone to. but now it's second to last day that i'm scheduled to traipse this giant floating ball of dirt, so i've started telling people. my family, my teachers, my mentors, everyone. my friends.

but there's one person i haven't told. mainly because i've been too scared to even think of what he'll say, or what he'll do.

here i am, though, outside his door, knocking quietly. it's dark, the streetlights are casting a tired glow on the dry pavement, and i'm feeling really just pathetic. he opens the door, sees me, and then swallows.

"hey."

"hey."

i stare at his face before choosing to fixate on the table a little ways in. i can tell that nobody else in the house is awake--the lights are completely off. there's no warmth from the house. i guess he makes up for it though--i can feel heat rolling off him in waves.

"what's up?"

i fidget, biting my lip, drumming my fingers on my jeans. the denim feels rough and uninviting. i stop.

"i'm dying."

his eyes widen for a second before he cocks his head at me.

"really, now. aren't we all."

i don't say anything, just let what i've said settle in. he stares at me in the dark, expecting a response. getting none, he turns around to face the inside of his house.

"how long have you known?" he murmurs.

"last june."

i try and keep my answers short and clipped. i know i'm way too emotionally invested in him, in our not-relationship to not do anything stupid here. like attempt to have a relationship that lasts all of a couple hours.

the night air keeps the conversation open and closed at the same time, the same not-so-awkward silence that i'm used to on the phone with him. i exhale slowly, getting ready to leave. i'm almost ready to head to my car when he turns around and reaches for my hand.

"i don't know what to say."

i find myself speechless because this is what i've wanted for so long, but at the same time, i can't do this to him. i can't leave him so hurt and on the verge of breaking. that's what's logical. but since when have i been logical? i pull him close and we smash into a kiss--needy, hungry, desperate. when we resurface, he stares at me again.

"i need you to stay."

i look at the bush next to his front porch, leaning my head on his chest.

"i've needed you for so long."

and, of course, at that moment, i can feel myself going. disappearing, disintegrating. you see, in this world, when we die the adage "dust to dust" is literal. i'm dissolving, particle by particle. he holds me up, supporting me because i don't have feet anymore.

"don't go, please."

i never knew that he could ever sound so wrecked. i cling to him harder, pressing into his chest.

"i need you, i don't want to go, i don't want to leave."

it can't be good for someone who's dissolving into dust to cry, really. i should know better. but the drops are falling and my face is falling apart fast.

if there's something that can go last, please let it be my eyes. i want him to be the last thing i see before i go.


i'm not sure exactly how wishes work and i've never believed in them before, but as the rest of me is going, i can feel my eyes gain some new sort of resolve, and they're staying. at least a little longer. i'm down to just my torso, my arms, and what i have left of my face.

i need to keep my voice too, as long as my eyes stay.


and there, my vocal cords are sealed with a time bomb set for the same time as my eyes.

"i need to tell you that i love you."

he bites his lip, his breath hitches, and he holds me even closer.

"you can't go now, please."

the rest of me goes, except for my eyes and my voice.

"i love you, i love you. don't forget me--i'll never forget you. and... thanks. for everything."

at that, my voice gives out. i see him clutch empty air, and then, nothing.