[ WP ] The immortal man has seen everything and is a cynic . Make him believe in the good of things again , thus putting him to rest .

“ I ’ ve given them so much, ” he sighs with his head dropped back against the red fabric of the sofa cushion. His arms are resting against the cushions as well, extended out like the figure of a deflated Christ. “ I ’ ve shown them beauty in art, science, literature, architecture- ” 
 
 
 I place a hand on his forehead and his closed eyes open, pale blue irises locking in on my hovering presence. Then I lean down to place a kiss on his lips. They hang open slightly, not returning the gesture. But I ’ m not offended. I can practically hear the thought, his cut off brooding statement, continue in his busy mind as his eyes no longer look at me despite staying fixed on my face. 
 
 
 “ For each thing they ’ ve lost - everything you ’ ve provided them that they ’ ve lost sight of - have they not built so much more? ” I ask. 
 
 
 With a vacant expression, he pulls his body upright, sits for a second and then stands up. Then he paces to the window. Outside is nothing, or so he interprets it this way. There is fog, a beautiful cloud covering heavy with incoming rain. There are abandoned row-homes and a construction site where more of these homes once stood. Now flattened. 
 
 
 “ Look at this; decay and destruction, ” he mumbles, resting his forehead against the glass. The area around his skin fogs, though you can hardly tell due to the misty haze seen through the window. 
 
 
 “ Decay, my love, leads to life. Destruction leads to rebuilding. ” 
 
 
 He looks at me and, though I can tell he still suffers, his thoughts seem to silence for the time being.
