Chapter Nine
“Let's face it: Our lives are miserable, exhausting, and short.”
“Kabul edelim: Yaşamlarımız sefil, yorucu ve kısa.”
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Perhaps, somewhere, someday, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.
Çoğu yoksa azıyla yetinmeyeceğim...
I’d rather spend years alone than settle down and make myself even more miserable. I wanted to be head over heels in love, not kind of in love.
'' Question for you, Neil. Do I look dead to you?" He pointed up at his face, waited for Neil to answer, and didn't seem surprised when Neil didn't. "Here."
Andrew beckoned Neil closer as if he wanted to show Neil something on his phone's small screen. He flipped the phone open one-handed and pressed down hard on a single button. There was silence, then the distant hum of Andrew's phone dialing out. Between them Neil's phone started to sing. The words were different than Andrew's ringtone, but the voice was the same. Neil knew it was from the same miserable song. The lyrics hurt just as much as Andrew's had. Neil stared down at the phone and let it ring.
"Your phone is ringing," Andrew said. "You should answer it."
Neil picked it up with numb fingers and opened it. He spared only a second to look at Andrew's name on the screen before he answered and put it to his ear.
"Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay," Andrew said. "This is not news to you. But from now until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.
"I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. But you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it." Andrew put a finger to the underside of Neil's chin and forced Neil's head up until they were looking at each other. "On that day you're not going to run. You're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call. Tell me you understand."
“Because I was wrong. I thought I was doing the right thing when I told you to leave the first time, but I was so wrong. I thought you’d see the world and that your infatuation with me would evaporate. I thought you were too young and inexperienced to see that. But you were right. I was the one that was blind. I loved you then. I adored the ground you walked on, and nothing has changed. I knew I wouldn’t stop loving you, but I was wrong to doubt you, wrong to think that your feelings would change. I’ve been consoling myself for so long with the idea that even if I was miserable without you, at least you were happy out there somewhere. And now that I know that’s not the case, I can’t bear the thought of you leaving me again.”
Work, work, proletarians, to increase social wealth and your individual poverty; work, work, in order that becoming poorer, you may have more reason to work and become
miserable. Such is the inexorable law of capitalist production.
