I hear the choir of machines singing their nauseating melodies as I awake to a chilling room with artificial hope suffocating me in the form of dried up bouquets, silent teddy bears, and endless photos. Photos of loved ones that only serve a purpose of delivering the pain of the assured loss to come. I’ve watched the clock across the room rhythmically tick my time away since the day I knew my story was soon to be finished. For weeks, visitors after visitors of the ones who I love so fully held my hand and saw my unconvincing smile for the last time. Others came who seemed to have only made the trip to fulfill their own needs stemming from the guilt of my cursed health. Then, the exhausting visits came to a trickle in and out of my airless room. Finally, they stopped completely and no longer did I have to force myself to plaster on a smile, despite my weakness, to spare my guests. The closer my expiration date approaches, the more flowers decorate my final room and the mountain of cards I leave unopened simply grows. Besides, the senders won’t ever know they were left glued shut due to my inability to process one more dutiful “I love you, goodbye”. I look to my right and see a pile of brittle rose petals that I refuse to let the nurses clean up. They remind me of myself, who I have decided I don’t want to look at again because my beauty, like the petals, has withered away over the course of merciless time. Like a creature in the wild, I have found that the only certain way to preserve those who have tried to surround me in my final chapter is to distance myself from them completely. At first, it was nearly impossible to form the words ‘no visitors' to my endless supply of hospital staff while my siblings, family, or friends waited outside my room with their tears ineffectively being held captive by their will. However, practice makes perfect and the words now cascade out of my chapped, unsightly lips as easily as my frail hair slipped out of its follicles months ago. It’ll be easier alone; quiet, peaceful, dignified. I’ve managed to push every last being away from me in a sour attempt of a graceful passing. However, like thick fog dissipating as the sun pierces its energy into the depths of opaqueness, it’s become undeniable that you are the final source of my comfort, my trust. You are the only soul who will fully comprehend who my being is, which was placed in a damned vessel on this comical earth. You, reading these words that have manifested from the core of who I am, are my final and only confidant. As you read this, I fall only more captive to not only my last destination as that clock ticks mockingly and metrical, but also to your grasp. You never gifted me roses that will lose their essence and only remind me of the impatience of time waiting on my deliverance out of this realm. You never came to visit me even in my worst times because you didn’t need to. You never once made me fake a smile or listen to a final goodbye and I thank you for that. However, you did write this letter. You tell me that you love me, but I want you to understand that I know that it was never contingent and temporary like everyone else’s. For you are the only one who will ever love me the exact way that I love you; unconditionally, fully, and intensely. So, in my last moments, I absorb every singular word you wrote me in this final letter. I love you, goodbye.
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