Dark Chocolate

A series of bittersweet oneshots that I am making. It would be nice if no one deleted this.

My self pity
Description : I have a conversation with myself.

I took out a piece of dark chocolate I have and popped it into my mouth.

Leaning on the rails, I was looking out from a bridge. My best friend is standing besides me.

"It wouldn't matter if I die."

I stated it like a fact.

"That not true! You have people that love you, people that will cry if you die, including me, people that-"

"People that I can't even reach without the internet or an electronic device. I'm not saying this so you will feel sorry for me. I'm simply stating the truth."

My dead eyes stare out at the abyss, morbidly curious of what would happen to my body if I ever decided to jump. Would my body be ripped apart? Will my guts and intestines spill out? Will my brain make a bloody mess on the floor?

Somehow, those thoughts amused me.

"But-"

"They would be sad. For a while. Then they will forget. Life goes on. The earth still spins. Nothing will really change, even if I die."

"That doesn't make it alright!" They look concerned.

"Is does. Am I supposed to seriously consider how others feel when I feel so fucking tired right now? I doubt most of the people that I care about would give a crap even if I disappeared off the face of earth after a year or two!"

"If you're so tired, we can just take a nap together."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I take a step back from the rails. It feels a bit better to know that someone cares about me. But...

Tears fill my eyes as I smile brokenly at my own self pity.

"You know why else this doesn't matter?"

They don't respond.

"Because you're not even real."

There was nothing more for them to say. They faded away in the wind.

I look back at the abyss.

I know that I will never jump. I am too cowardly for that. I just stand there and stare at the void while I wish that I cared about myself more than my delusions did.

I savor the aftertaste of the dark chocolate.

It's bittersweet.

You hurt me
I ordered my coffee and sat down. I faced away from the rest of the cafe, across from an empty booth seat, adjacent to a window looking out onto the street.

The pattern of the booth fabric caught my eye, and I looked at it, trying to make sense of it, before admiring the shelving of unique decorations this cafe displayed on the shelves above.

In a sharp voice, the name of the coffee I ordered was called out behind me, and I turned to stand up and walk to the counter.

After smiling and thanking the barista for my cup, I turned to walk back to my seat.

Halfway across, while I was looking out the windows, I saw them.

I hadn't seen them in months. I haven't heard from them for the same.

I didn't expect to see them, not here, not today.

And I didn't expect them to come in the cafe, see me, and walk up to me.

They wore no expression, or, perhaps, my mind refused to acknowledge they possessed one.

Wordlessly, we both headed back to your table. They slid into the booth. They somehow just seemed to fit the missing piece of the booth's pattern, as if they had always been there.

"It's, uh, been a .... while."

I gingerly placed down your coffee.

"I haven't .... heard from you.... in two months."

"I know."

"We... were friends, and ... I thought we ... understood each other."

They were silent. They wore no emotion.

"After all we did together, you just stopped answering. And I never...."

I never what?

Never had anyone just cleave me from their life? Anyone so close just... stop? Stop caring, stop reading, stop sending, stop seeing...

But with all of these thoughts, I didn't feel sad. At least, not in the crying sense.

"You hurt me."

"I know."

"Then why did you?"

"I don't know."

I looked down to my coffee. The steam was swirling around it, and then disappearing.

"The worst part of all this was that I knew you cut me off because you were suffering.

And that, because of that, I couldn't help you.

I really did care for you, you know, so knowing that your pain made even me too much to bear... and that I could do nothing...

That. That was the worst part.

And the fact that it was something that you chose to do?

That hurt me too."

They surely had some sort of reaction to this, but I could not comprehend what it would be. So their face was void.

I sipped on my coffee. It tasted sweet, compared to the words you were saying.

"I've wanted to say this for so long.

I've wanted to text it to you a million times, but I knew that it was your choice to never respond to the last message I sent. And I respected that decision."

They were blank.

"And I suppose, what hurts the most now, is maybe the fact that I don't know how you feel. I don't know if you're happy now, or suicidal, or somewhere in between, because you've never told me.

And maybe it's the possibility that you've managed to move on, while I still am in limbo as to if I should or shouldn't care about someone who I know I knew well."

They were a ghost.

"The fact that you're saying nothing makes you real.

Because you haven't said anything to me for what seems like an eternity."

They were an essence.

"You hurt me."

They were gone.

I sipped my coffee.

"And if I could ever see you again, that's what I'd say."

The coffee was sweet.

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