(出典： dai-gurren-dan)
Today, my boyfriend took me to the cemetery to meet his father who passed away almost seven years ago. It was a blatant act of collapsing the final wall between us as he tore away his stoic exterior and cried for everything he had pent up for so long: his dying mother, his misaligned younger sister, his fear for the future. He let me in on it all, and it’s now that I can surely say that he loves me with every fiber of his broken being. We held each other in the blistering cold, and even though I don’t believe in the sort of thing, I spoke to the corpse beneath my feet. I said:
”I’m sorry we never met. Your son speaks so highly of you. He tells me you would’ve adored me. And I want to believe him, but I guess I’ll never know for sure. He tells me you had the kindest eyes, and it must be true, because his eyes are the same way. Do you find it ironic that cemeteries are so peaceful? I mean, there’s dead bodies everywhere, and yet, it’s so serene. But I’m just being morbid… It was nice meeting you, sir. I’ll take good care of your son. I’ll make him happy. I promise.”
We left flowers and bid farewell, and I felt hollow. What are you supposed to say to someone who at any moment is going to become an orphan? I told him everything is going to be okay. And he only cried harder.
“
All these thousands of miles later, all these different people I’ve been, and it’s still the same story. Why is it you feel like a dope if you laugh alone, but that’s usually how you end up crying? How is it you can keep mutating and still be the same deadly virus?
| — | Invisible Monsters, Chuck Palahniuk |
