catriona
@marchand
c2 seviye reading slump
"what are you, his lawyer or something?"
"no, no, i was just his friend."
"i'm sorry."
"you don't have to be."
"i do. if you were his friend, i'm sorry. because the whole world lost an artist, but you lost your human. and i'm sorry you had to share that with the rest of us. you should be allowed to have your grief in peace."
"thank you."
they have never met, but it doesn't matter. art teaches us to mourn for strangers.
and ted has to forgive them, because in grief we are reminded that we're human beings. in life we might be enemies, but when faced with death, we see the truth: we are one species, all we have is each other, and where you go, i shall follow.
ted's ears are ringing as he lays his forhead against the edge of the artist's bed. afterward it feels as if this went on for several days, because that's how death sounds. once upon a time, church bells used to ring for the dead, now it's telephones, and the more they ring, the more important the person was. when a world-famous artist dies, phones ring on every continent people talk about him on the news, people who have never met him cry. art is so big, so unfathomable, that it teaches us to mourn for strangers.
"don't cry for me, ted. i got to experience everything. it's been a long, long life, and at the end of it i got to see something unbelievably beautiful."
"that girl's paintings?"
"no. you. i got to see you."