[ WP ] It 's the future , and people no longer die from aging . Barring accidents and murders , death is now a choice . Today , you 're attending a funeral , because last week , your best friend for hundreds of years , had chosen just that .

Death didn ’ t have quite the same meaning anymore. Sure, we cried and ate, remembered and then forgot, but the cost of it was gone. We all had a choice, and Judy, chose the 11th of May. 
 
 I sat cross-legged on the disturbed ground beneath her grave, and dragged my fingers through the moist grass that surrounded it. Everyone else had left for the party, to drink, to dance, and remember her, but I remained, frozen by crippling grief. 
 
 On my eight birthday, the two of us went to the public swimming pool. We had a race to see who would reach the water first, and Judy being the scarily competitive one, stuck her foot out and tripped me just as I started to run. I flew and landed with a thump that knocked out all my air, but it was the smell of grass that caught me as my face slid past it. 
 
 In my anger, I had linked that smell forever to her, and now as I sat there, prying the grass loose, it almost felt like she was present. 
 
 That wasn ’ t her best moment, and there had been millions that made up for it. 
 
 *This is wrong. * Forever was a long time to live without your better half, and after a century of unending friendship, it truly felt like my heart had been ripped right out of my chest, and buried right along with her. 
 
 I picked up the note that her brother had passed me, and held onto if for a moment, staying in the brief, little moment of the unknown. There, where a moment still existed between us—the last one. 
 
 I sniffed, and shook my head in an attempt to stop my tears. 
 ***** 
 Hey idiot, 
 
 I ’ m sorry that I didn ’ t tell you. I wanted to, and came close to, but I just thought that you would stop me. And if anyone in the world could, it would be you. 
 
 I lived enough, loved enough, and I just want to see if there ’ s anything else out there than the pattern of everyday life. 
 
 How many more times were we going to meet at that bar? How many times were we going to see the same plot, of the same stories, spoken with different voices and different words, but at the end of a wasted hour, still saying and showing the same damn thing? How many times was I going to walk into the same office? It ’ s all so painfully repetitive. We should know, we tried it all. 
 
 Also, you ’ re probably wondering why you didn ’ t catch my sadness, and blaming yourself for not helping. You ’ re wrong—as usual—and I love you for it. I was not sad, depressed or alone. I ’ m just bored, kid. 
 
 I just found myself standing at the very edge of yet another long road, and I wanted to stop. 
 
 Truth be told, I was waiting for you to kick it before me, but for some reason you ’ re way too persistent. Kidding. I love your stupid face. 
 
 I want you to be happy—though, I assume for a while you won ’ t be. Sorry! —and to remember me, and to one day come to be as content as I was with life and with death. 
 
 P.S. You ’ re an ugly crier. So stop it already! 
 
 ***** 
 
 [ Part 2 - Death meets Judy ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/AlinaKG/comments/4ibiyu/ending_eternal_life_by_suicide_death_meets_judy/ ) 
 
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