a future to avoid

It all started with this. Lara, for the 100th time, told me that she needed me more, but I neglected her. I neglected and neglected and neglected. And she had enough. Even though she was crazy in love with me, she realized that wasn't the life she wanted. I fell apart. I never imagined that she could leave me. She was my everything—or at least that's what I thought.

So I cried. I fell and broke down. And then I did what I’ve always been good at: I poured everything into work. I couldn’t connect with my friends, my family, or even myself. So I gave every ounce of my energy to my job. I became a machine, a monster waging war—14-hour days chasing some abstract success.

For a while, I enjoyed it. Promotions came, recognition grew. They placed me in better and better positions. But eventually, I wanted to slow down. Yet I didn’t know how. I didn’t have the connections anymore to do anything outside of work. At least, that’s what I thought.

So I became even more isolated—from myself and the world. I shut down my feelings. Everything turned empty and grey. “There’s not much else to do,” I kept telling myself, trying to satisfy my hunger with material things.

Until one day, I was old—and I could no longer lie to myself.

So I went to look for Lara—where she was in the world. And after a long time, I found her. She was happily married to another person. I saw from outside and saw them laughing and kissing. Children—possibly grandchildren—ran by their legs.

And that was too much. I saw in that moment how shallow the life I was living was. How empty it was without love, without connections, without friends, without family.

A sharp feeling surged inside me: anger. Anger that no one ever told me this was what I was supposed to have. For a brief moment, a dark thought crossed my mind. I wanted to destroy everything—to hurt her, her family. But then I realized… a part of me still loved her.

So I waved a silent last goodbye to her, walked calmly and quietly to the nearest drugstore, and bought far too many pills.

I checked into a hotel room, swallowed them all, and turned on the TV—until I couldn’t see anymore...