Am I supposed To Be Happy? (English Version)

Am I Supposed To Be Happy?

Tw// homophobia, suicide

"Lexa please, open the door!" I hear crying, but I don't move forward an inch.

I stand still, sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by old photographs. I take one of them between my hands and I look at it, as my eyes are able to bring what is portrayed in life. Sometimes I wonder if I have the right to be happy. The answer I give myself isn't one of the best.

"Lexa please, open the door! I'm begging you, let me in!". I close my eyes at these words. Let me in. No, Clarke. I can't. I can't do it. Opening up to others is something I can't afford anymore. Not today. Not this day.

"Lexa, please." I hear her plea, her voice fainter and fainter. God, what am I doing? What am I doing to her? With a monumental effort I stretch and take my bedroom keys and I throw them under the door. I can hear Clarke grabbing them and fumbling with the lock. I don't see her coming in, I only feel her arms surrounding me from behind and holding me to her chest. She tenderly kisses my head and starts rocking me, saying nothing. She knows that it would be utterly useless. Sometimes grief is so hard that discourses able to soothe it don't exist. After all, through words human beings try to rationalize reality, to give a meaning to what surrounds them. But what is the meaning hiding behind the death of a beloved one who didn't find any other anchor than a void sinking in nothingness? What is the meaning hiding behind the girl you love's decision of taking her own existence, slapping in the face your littleness, your inadequacy, your not being enough? What is the meaning of Evil harbouring in the heart of a man so radically anchored to his own idea of Good to end up breaking a twenty two years old girl, causing her to feel a mistake, a sin to root out and wash away through an extreme sacrifice? No, truth is that no meaning exists. It doesn't exist and it cannot exist. And it's okay. If anyone tells me that a meaning exists, well, I will probably get crazy. I don't think that grief is really useful. I think that yes, you can learn from it, but grief as grief doesn't bring with itself any mystic meaning or life lesson.

"I am here." suddenly Clarke mutters, waking me up from my thoughts. I slowly turn, until my green irises mirror her big blue eyes. I open my mouth to talk, but nothing else then a choking, but only a squashed tone comes out. I bit my lip, hardly. I don't want to cry. I don't want to collapse. I don't want to be weak. I can't be.

"Let me in." she whispers and my pathetic attempts to resist turn worthless, truth is that I am already weak. Before Clarke I have no defenses, she managed to undermine them all.

"Do you think I deserve to be happy?" I ask from nowhere. She sighs, without giving me an answer. She knows she can't give me any. I have to look for it, to find it, catch it. She is aware of it, too. This is the only way for it to be a true answer, not a mere set of words.

"It's been three years today. I thought that time could anesthetize pain, but I was wrong. It hurts more and more, Clarke. If feel like it should be me. if I shouldn't have left her alone that day, she didn't...". I'm not able to finish the sentence. Finally, I burst in tears. It's a cry full of desperation, regrets, remorses, guilty conscience. Clarke sweetly rocks me, whispering here and then soothing words that, however, I'm not able to perceive. She know that, but she doesn't stop. And I myself don't want her to stop either. I need to hear her voice. I need to perceive something, an alternative to all this pain, to all this absence of meaning. Clarke doesn't stop talking to me and, at the same time, she waits, with extreme patience. She waits for me to be ready to let her in, one more time. I don't know how much time we stay like this, clinging to one's another, I lost in thousand sobs and Clarke who doesn't surrender, who keeps trying to bring me back to her through the sound of her voice. I feel her hand caressing my hair and her mouth perching on my temple, while my body shaken by spasms is totally drained because of all the shed tears.