And Then...

1- Choices and Decisions

Warning/// Light mentions of death and funerals. Talks of depression and light mention of suicide. 

June 10th

Grey had never been his favorite color, any variation of it really. It reminded him of the blurry parts of life; the uncertain decisions yet to be made and the ones long past. Grey was filled with the unknown, too much hesitation, and yet it perfectly fit how he saw the world. Everything was unknown for him. As he stared out the window by his bed, he thought of all the things he wished he could make a decision about, all the choices he'll never get to make.

Would he prefer a beach wedding or a chapel wedding? Does he even want to get married or does he just want the feeling those sappy movies have convinced him is a right of passage in life? What kind of house does he want to buy? Or would it be better to live in apartments that he could up and leave if he wants to go to a new place? Dog or cat? Bird or fish? These were questions that he would never get to answer.

What would be his last meal? Where would be his final resting place? Would he wear a suit in a casket or go for his favorite pajamas? Funeral or cremation? Those are the kinds of questions he needs to answer soon, as it would seem. The only ones that seem to matter. The deadline for his answers is coming quickly, too quickly. Time is never on anyone's side, but for Jisung? Time is an outright bitch baby that is intent on making him feel just how much his life is not like a movie. He'll never get to fall in love. He'll never get to get a pet that him and his partner could dote over. He'll never see the waterfalls of the Amazon or the highest peaks in Europe, never climb their summits and feel the triumphant bliss of such an accomplishment. He'll never know what it's like to live and be reckless.

It's not his fault though. Just another decision he's never had the chance to make. This part of his life— if you could call it that- was decided for him before he was even born. The sad thing is, you can't even see it. How unlucky was he that the thing that decided to zap his life from him decided to be hidden until the moment he decided what path he wanted to take? To anyone that didn't know him he had looked fine, perfectly healthy and capable. Until he wasn't. Now he looked like a withering soul that milled through life without a care, without a plan. That's what he was now. Why make plans when there's a very high chance they would never be able to happen? Why give himself hope to dream or even try when he knew how it was going to end? The universe dealt his cards, now he just had to wait until the fate they held came to fruition.

It wasn't something he could change unfortunately. Written in his DNA like his eye color or where his beauty marks lied in his skin. He wishes he had a choice, he would do anything to have one. The freedom to change his life was something he yearned for more than he would like to admit.

"Mr. Han? It's time for your medicine."

He didn't look at the nurse that entered his room, didn't want to see the look of pity on her face when he turned down the pills. That was his choice. Because what was the point? The pain would be there either way, numbing it wouldn't change the inevitable. He rather not swallow horse pills for a few hours of peace. If they invented a pill that would transfer his consciousness out of the body that failed him, the vessel that had an expiration date quicker than what should be possible, then he would take a whole bottle of them. But this is not a movie. Things like that don't exist. Fate truly hates him for him to be born in a world where fantastical things were only a figment of your imagination.

He heard her sigh, set down the pills on his nightstand and walk out the room. She knew he wouldn't take them, he stopped indulging them months ago when the doctor told him that he was too far gone. Hope, was too far gone. It was pointless to take the medication he was prescribed. He thought they should use them on someone who had a chance; that they shouldn't waste resources on him, or space. The only reason he was even here to begin with was because his family wanted him to be comfortable in his final moments. This wasn't comfortable though, this was hell.