Death and its many faces

When he was hospitalized , I didn't expect to feel anything. I didn't expect to cry, to care, to understand so much in the little time i had had with him before the episode. As cruel as it seems, a small part of me wanted him to die. He ripped away at me, every fiber of my being was being destroyed as he spoke, every word like acid burning away at the world i had created for myself. I wanted him to die. But he had become apart of me, he was apart of my world now, as much as anything and everything else was. I needed him. I needed him alive.
"Jack?"
He had been hospitalized for trying to kill himself. This was eighth time I had stood in this room, next to this window, watching those patients on the lawn walk aimlessly follwed by some guardian in white. This was the eighth time i had felt nothing, but had driven myself down here to see him, strapped to the bed, three long canvas strips, restraining him from the one thing he wanted most.
"Yes, Oliver?"
"Why can't I? I mean why do I keep failing to accomplish something so simple?"
Oliver Marcus Henry was one of my closest friends, he told me everything, every secret. He never failed to remind me that he loved me, that he didn't care if I couldn't love him back. He was just happy knowing that I knew. To him, killing himself was supposed to be simple. But each time he tried he failed. The rope not tight enough, not strong enough, the pills not potent enough, the rocks not enough to keep him down in the river that ran by our school. Maybe he already knew those things when he had tried to commit the sinful act. Maybe was hesitating. He wouldn't tell the doctors, much less me.
"I don't know, Oliver. I don't know."
And then he was silent. Just quietly lying in bed, watching the ceiling. Something he did, when no one had the answers, something he clung to, the wandering thoughts taking over, consuming him.
"They won't let me out, Jack. Because they know, they know I'll try again."
"yes, Oliver. I know."
"Don't talk to me, like I'm one of your sick friends, Jack. You know the only reason I'm here is I messed up."
I did know that. I knew he was smart and healthy and sane. He just couldn't understand life, and he believed it held nothing for him as he held nothing for it.
"I love you."
"I know."
I visit Oliver every now and then. The conversations don't vary much. He talks, I listen. He's losing it, the Oliver I knew is disappearing and quite possibly, I'm disappearing with him.
"We all die, Jack."
"I know."
"There's nothing wrong with running in the opposite direction."
"Of course not."
"I love you."
Someday I will respond.
Someday I'll tell him I care.
Someday we'll both be happy.
Someday he'll succeed.