Author Raul F. O.

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I Write Sins... Not Tragedies 28 - You Really Got Me

She flung open the door expecting to see the student again, only to be greeted by a rugged looking guy with little to no life behind his eyes. Hello. Could you please keep the music down? I am really having a hard time sleeping. She looks at him with the most disappointed look on her face. Not you too. What is it with you people? Where is your passion for life? Who ate your soul, man? He looks at her with his face almost falling off. It’s because… He gestures broadly at things around him. Oh, who cares? We’re the… She too gestures broadly at everything around her. Yes, but that’s exactly the problem. If… He once more opens his arms and with broad strokes points at everything. Don’t change, then what is even the point? She scoffs, puts her hand on his shoulder and screams. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? The student from before comes out from his apartment, looks at them with the most annoyed look on his face. She apologizes and without thinking drags the man inside.

You can’t think like that. It’s going to ruin you and your life, she says while holding his hand. That’s dangerous thinking. She pulls him further in the apartment, sits him down on the couch, grabs her wine and continues. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Stress, anxiety, unhappiness does kill you faster than if you were happier, more optimistic and more open to the world around you. And I’m not saying that you should love each and every person you encounter. No. Who knows what a dick they were or are. No. I’m just saying that you can only give a little and get a little back, and that’s enough to make your life a bit better. He makes himself a bit more comfortable, leaning back against the couch. Yes, but you can’t live life that way. It isn’t possible to be happy and open all the time. It’s not normal. She looks at him with pity. I know, I never said that you shouldn’t be sad, or anything like that. But if you don’t escape it, you will be in a perpetual state of sadness, loneliness, depression.

He gets up, annoyed looks at her and tries to speak. What? She asks. It’s not that simple and you know that it is not that simple to change your entire life because someone said simply don’t be depressed anymore. She frustrated by his comment shouts. HEY! Listen to me, please. Her town slowly coming down, she continues. I understand, that’s why people commit suicide, but that’s also why people rely on friends, on a specialist, on a support group. Because it’s not easy, but nor is it or was ever your entire life. It is just a small part of the rest of your life. He rolls his eyes at those words. That’s so cliche and soupy… She gasps. You say that like it’s a bad thing. Cliches are a good thing sometimes. Because you know what to expect and you can’t be let down by something you expect, can you? He scratches his head in frustration. I guess… She laughs and reaches her hand out. By the way, my name is…

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