The Mirror and the Razor Blade
My best friend is called John. We get on well. Surprisingly well really. Normally he has trouble forming proper relationships with people. Sorry to be so quick to the point but I can see it's preying on his mind quite heavily at the moment. Anyway, he has trouble bonding with people. Not just women. It's not that he's intolerant, quite the opposite really. He just thinks too much about how and why he's getting on with someone, and that's why he's never found a soul mate other than me. Somehow I manage to avoid the confining annoyances he gets from others. I don't think it's enough though. It's been getting to him recently. I don't think he's pissed off with me, I think it's just a life's worth of loneliness coming to a head. He doesn't know what it's all for. The ultimate question for some, takes a lot of victims each year, according to suicide figures. I don't think that's John though. Even though I can see him in front of me now, leaning over a sink with a razor in his hand, thinking about it. It won't happen, he's squeamish about razors.
There are other things in life of course, music, cinema, learning and so on, but I think they appear shallow and transitory to him without someone to share it with. That's the point in a nutshell. The million wonders of this world can be as more amazing than you can imagine, but what's the point when there's no-one to tell?
Maybe he will go through with it. I can see a hardening of his face, squeamishness it too petty an emotion to stand in the way. I wonder if I can save him if he does...
The women he has been out with have liked him, but it's the constriction he feels which killed the relationship. They never want to do exactly the same thing at the same time and that starts to grate. I think he'd be happiest going out with himself. Not an ego thing, you understand, he hates big ego's as much as I do. We reckon most of the dickheads in the world are how they are because of an excess of that personality destroying emotion. That said, he is worried about himself getting like the dickheads. He can't find another him and he started to wonder if he was just better than everyone else, which is about as egotistical as you can get. He really hated himself for having that thought.
I look at his face in the mirror and know that despite all the good in his life, he's going to end it.
You see, I just can't cope with the fact that I am my own best friend.