His Glorious Death Pt.4

Josh never have told me about his sickness. I wouldn’t have called it a sickness if it wasn’t how the medical people saw it, but it was too much to call it a war anyways as Josh puts it. I would say that it was somewhere between a sickness and a war – maybe to cheesy to be called a ‘disease’ because it wasn’t the type that would spread by mere touch or even a ‘fight’ because you would only be at fighting with something you have never understood and nothing else, really. And a fight, as far as I’m concerned, will only cause you physical damages that will be healed within weeks – such as bruises and nothing more.

Later after his death, I knew from Jerome that even from freshman, they knew he’s had it – that he’s not gonna make it through another 10 years of his worldly life anymore. Even if he did, he’s gonna suffer.

It was a brain tumor, the doctor always said. But the tumor weren’t the easy ones. They kept growing back – the tumor kept on coming no matter how many times the doctors remove it; no matter how clean his head was after a surgery – the tumors were more insistent than any cure had ever been insistent.

Everybody in the family – which also includes Josh – they all agreed on keeping it secret from the world; in which includes me as a resident. They would’ve want the world to know that one of their sons died after a lengthy battle of vitamins, treatments, surgeries and whatof; but the world wouldn’t help in relinquishing the sadness, the memories it triggered, yet the pain Josh felt – so they decided to keep it away. And as for me, they didn’t want me to grief on his sickness that it would affect how I saw our potential relationship. That I would’ve date him out of pity instead of love. To be fair, maybe it would affect me in some ways, but never in my love and affection for him.

Even though Josh still didn’t tell me about any of the treatments he was having – increasing in the last 6 months of his life, I knew something was happening. Even though I couldn’t work out what it was, I knew there was something eversince the year back.

It started on the small things I observe didn’t happen anymore; starting shortly after christmas. Like, no more trips to the pool (even if we did go the pool, he would only stare at it for a long time and groans; there were pain in his eyes because they wouldn’t let him swim anymore), this big black eyebags which more likely came from lengthy nights without sleep as sadness kicks in, and nights he’d ask me to come over and spend a sleep together with him when the pain he felt became too unbearable to handle alone. As to those sadness, he always told me that he was taking in meds to help him conquer back his strength to the pool when I know it should be something more than that if it affects his head: a long mark of a line the operations left along it.

Until one day, a day before another operation, he called me to come over. As I sat an hour into his living room, he finally told me everything and cried. I tried not to, initially, but given to the facts that he might die anytime without me being able to say any proper goodbye, I broke down.

“You know, my glorious death, as I once asked you, wouldn’t be the hollywood craved name on a street anymore. I would still be as well forgotten” He stated, as he pulled a tear away.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. I didn’t have time as it turns out anyway right, with all of these breaking inside me? So, I thought I’d change into something more bearable and I could definitely do before this all ends”

I would’ve cried again if it wasn’t for the edge of this smartly given sentence that made my curiosity level rises as I hold another tear back and asked: “So, what is that glorious death now?”

“It would’ve been something like dying while conquering a war that people would already give up on, but not me when I die – anywhere it might be, anytime soon. I’ll be a champion.”

“So you’re not at all sad?”

“Well, I’ve lived long enough with it to say I’m not; that it has somewhat become me, but on the other hand, it would be bullshit given that you didn’t know that I’m going”

And it was three months prior to his death when he said that – three months before the midnight call came and led me into his death 15 hours later.

I am sad, of course. But the pain is now more bearable than I thought it would be as I put a thought of how glorious Josh’s death was – that this is the death he’s wanted dying for. That this is the thing he would’ve wanted to conquer, even though he didn’t end up victorious when he conquered it, that he still died at 18 when he did. That when he is finally defeated, he didn’t go down without a fight. But when he died with it, I could say that I am proud of him; proud of having someone who had been fighting whatever he thought was worth dying for.

And Josh, despise the years it’s been since we last met each other face to face, you are still the champion. You are not dead. At least, not in my memory. –red

THE END