He is not as strong as he used to. Today, he could barely walk. But he did not want them to see, it’s a sign of him getting older, a weakness; he thought. His breath shortened and his sights, it’s awful; he felt. He coughed a lot, more than he used to, maybe it was the alcohol that did it to him; or maybe the drugs; or maybe simply those cigarettes he used to smoke - or maybe it was all of them. He did not care, what he cares is how he does not want other to see. Those who used to hang around him are long gone; some passed away and those who live never came back. He sometimes give a thought about them; it’s weird how he misses the people, considering how he never really liked some them in the first place. And those whom he loved, oh, that one particular woman whom he will always love; he selfishly claimed it’s the best for them to be apart. He forgot she is human too. He did not ask what does she want. He sent her afar, while all she ever wanted is to stay until the last breath do them apart. He is hiding and he does not want to be found. His anger took his soul to that lonely place where no one is allowed to touch it. He does not want others to see that the anger he has is actually pointed out toward himself. Disappointment towards self is the heaviest, does anyone ever told you that?
He forget what he did not see, it’s all natural. What happened to him is not a sign of weakness at all. It’s a sign of life, one that he used to live before. That one particular woman is still there waiting; wishing that one day he would really see. The life that’s eating him up slowly but sure made him forgot how he used to say that one day he would be able to look back and proudly says, “This is a sign; one that shows I have lived my life,”
And so today I have the obligation to pass on the message to you, “He has lived.”