“If I knew life wasn’t as great as advertised, I would have turned around, tucked my tail, and killed myself.”
That was the last thing he said to me. He… was a very, very close friend to me. My best friend. He… was a very stubborn man to the very end, never letting go of his hatred for humanity and life altogether. This statement may be a huge shock to a lot, especially to his parents… but, ma’am and sir, that was how your son was, that was who he truly was.
I have been there with him from the moment we were just a child, to the moment he first went to school, graduated, got a job, and even on his deathbed. It was like… I died along with him. That was just how special he was to me. You could even argue I was practically his gay husband… hahaha… well, jokes aside, at least he survived past 18… that’s the goal… right?
He… always wanted to be a writer. In the end, he did become one. Though, not a successful one, he still completed multiple stories. That’s enough to call him a writer. He may not have achieved his true goal and dream, but at least he got over the need for success, putting away the fake author that threw every story left and right.
When we reached the age of 30, that was the moment depression really hit the deepest. Being in an office job, a slave for money and just wanting to survive another day. The moment he realized he hadn’t even been working on his dream for the past 20 years changed him. I was proud, proud to watch him finally do something… it was the greatest achievement of his life, and I don’t think that’s an overestimation. Working for your dream will always be one of the greatest highlights of one’s life.
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However, look at him now, dead. Worked his ass off for absolutely nothing in return. Maybe if he had been a child and had the support of his parent's house and care, that determination could have been better shown at that age. Not when he even quit his job because he really wanted to focus on writing. It was useless. Pointless.
Okay, I’ll stop. I’m not here to scorn his life. It wasn’t all that bad, his sheer will can build an entire mountain if it was tasked to do so. But because of his age, it really was just the wrong time. Well, maybe not the wrong time, but just… it just wasn’t right okay. Stupid sentence, I'm sorry.
He was one of my greatest inspirations in life, and hopefully to others too. Despite always being at the lowest point he could be, his ambition to live, and his will to succeed, cannot be ignored.
Maybe life wasn’t great for him. Enough for it to be his greatest enemy, but… just as the phrase I said at the beginning, it wasn’t all about wanting to die. He wanted to live. He really, really wanted to live, no matter what.
I don’t know where that determination was from, but a lot of humans want to live, including me, so it’s not really anything special. Life offered a lot of things… and that’s his greatest inspiration to me. He showed me that life has more to offer, even if I cannot reach it right now, the offer will never disappear, it will only get easier or harder, just based on my own self.
This eulogy is already reaching lengths beyond what is needed, so I’ll end it shortly. I just have one last thing to say. Thank you to everyone who has attended. He probably would love to see just how many people cared for him. He was one of the greatest men I know. Never letting his shit life get to him, to the very end, he dreamed… dreamed… that someone would have at least written me a eulogy.
What a pathetic life, I was meant to die.