I eat proses for breakfast

would you like to die with me?

how vexatious it is to discern the bruises on your neck fathoming the abysmal throe in your heart

my childhood friend has an obsession with shinjuu. it all started when we were still in middle school. his family went bankrupt and fell into a hefty debt that the only means of egress is to commit a family suicide— he was the only one who survived. and that murder-suicide incident keeps haunting him up to this day.

to die together is the best demonstration of love

he have grown believing that apothegm. to him, if you are devoted to someone it's prevalent to want to die together. he bequeath himself finding a love he desire but each time his lovers unravels his grim endeavors, they waive. i hardly rebuke myself for if only i was there when he writhe, mayhap i could salvage him. yet, even i fervid myself to him in attempt to atone for my guilt, he never did once ask me to die with him. i've been loving him since age-old. but no, he only sees me as succor when he's dejected— or so i thought.

"hey, would you like to die with me?", he said one day.

and i thought it was what i've been waiting for. to suffice his whim, i can even throw away my whole life. but he was swift to take it back and just laughed it off— he said,

"dupe. i reify i want to spend the rest of my life with you."

&&fin.