"let me die right here in the dirt / let me die right here in my bed"

or, the endless dream of corruption

I will never forget the way I found you lying on your back begging me to let you die while the paramedics stood by, waiting for your assent.

I will never forget the way you refused to let the doctors treat you, the way they explained the surgery that would save you from this and you said No.

I will never forget the next time you begged me to let you die or the way you sent the paramedics away.

To let you die.

I wish it were that easy. But, as the doctors and I have told you, this probably won’t kill you. But if you continue to refuse treatment, you could become permanently and severely disabled.

I’d let you die.

I believe everyone deserves to die at the time and in the way that they want. And so I’d let you die. I wouldn’t even hold it against you. I know you’re in pain. Have been in pain for years.

I’ll never forget the way mom wept the first time, the second time, the way she keeps weeping.

I’ll never forget the way she told me she tries not to take your deathwish personally. How she doesn’t want you to leave her alone. How she asks me what she’ll do when you’re dead.

I will never forget the things I said to you and the way you begged me to stop.

And so now we wait for the next major stroke and simply hope.

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As for you, dear reader, please forgive me, but the planned essays for the next month or so may be delayed as this place goes quiet for a moment.

Take care.

Wolf.

Howl.