“You don’t have a clue, do you? This in not about depression,” I said.
“If anything it’s about love. It’s about seeing through to the other
side where love is everything; that is, until it’s gone, and then you’re
left with this horrible nothingness. It’s just too painful.”
“Alright already!” MV replied. “Problems can be dealt with. Admit it!
Problems come and go. You had a problem in San Francisco. It went
away. You’re still here–right!”
“Yeah, I hated myself back then, though, and you can live with hate.
Some people even exist on hate. I don’t hate anymore. In fact, there’s
nothing left at all. My life is over.”
“Are you going to kill yourself?” responded MV.
“Why should I go on living?”
“Well, if you screw up, remember that I tried to talk you out of it.
Screw ups,” replied MV, “cause vegetables, and you probably don’t want
that do you? So what’s on your mind, Eh?”
“I won’t screw up,” I replied. “What do you want, the blood-letting
“Sure! The way I see it,” replied MV, “this room looks pretty safe—no
stove, no windows–not even a knife.”
“First things first,” I said, “After I reach the bottom of this
bottle, sayonara, au revoir, ariva derci. I won’t screw up. Just down the
hall there’s a rock full of Arsenic and, according to Brad, just one
Arsenic crystal will kill you. The rock is covered in crystals.”
“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?” demurred MV.
“No. Nothing,” I said. “But don’t leave–Stay! Please, please, stay! Do you
get it: the two of us going down together. That will make things easier and
more satisfying! Life, my life, won’t be so much of a waste that way.
(Laughter, soft at first, then louder).
“Bastard! We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
“That we will,” MV softly responded.