[ WP ] '' It 's no use watering dead flowers ''

The wind was ferocious today, cutting through the layers of warm clothing and whipping hair about in a frenzy. Not even superglue could have kept your hairstyle in check up here. The 30 stories between the rooftop and the were quite obvious from this angle, especially with a sense of vertigo flowing through them. Two men sat on the edge of the building, trying to have a conversation through the screaming of the wind. 
 
 `` But why?'' 
 
 Robert had been thinking about this question for a while now. There were too many answers. His childhood? Lack of family? Perhaps the fact he was stuck in a dead end job? Maybe there was just no answer at all, maybe he just was n't meant to be alive. He was an accidental child after all. His mother had to put her career on hold, his father was a junkie one time hook-up. He knew what he was and he had no compunctions talking about it, but explaining why he wanted to die was n't the easiest of explanations. Even talking to shrinks in the past he never had a good answer. Mostly it'd be something like `` I do n't want to live anymore'' which would immediately be followed by the question again. It was frustrating. It felt like some child who was just asking the same word over and over again. Felt like a road trip where `` Are we there yet?'' was the only thing uttered from the backseat. 
 
 *** 
 
 Craig was looking at Robert intently. His fear of Robert slipping over the edge was palpable, but he knew if he tied him up in conversation for long enough maybe he could help him somehow. Just the way he was, he guessed. Always the type to help, never the type to say no. If you needed a shoulder, Craig was there. If you needed a lift, Craig and his truck were there. But this time he was n't sure he could do anything. Maybe just hear the last few words that Robert had to say. They were n't friends for very long, maybe a few months total, but he had seen the pain inside. That look of agony that would spread across his face when Robert thought no one was looking. The same look that evaporated the second that he noticed someone around. 
 
 A shrug. That's all he was able to pry out of him. Just a singular shrug. 
 
 `` Oh come on Rob, you ca n't do that to me. If you want to die, I get that. I ca n't understand it but I know you're in pain. I do n't want you to die, and I'll do my best to make sure that does n't happen if I can help it, but I want an answer if you're going to do this to me.'' 
 
 There was another long pause and Craig kept staring. A couple of drops fell from Robs face, heavy sigh audible over the whirling wind. 
 
 *** 
 
 His chest was hurting. A spidery pain, his heart aching. The shrug was the only thing he could come out with that did n't sound overly melodramatic or pathetic, but there was a quote echoing through his head. A metaphor that was accurate, but a bit contrite. 
 
 `` No use in watering dead flowers.'' 
 
 He looked up from his feet, and the street below, and at Craigs face. They locked eyes for a moment, then Craig leaned back. Both still stuck in thought. 
 
 *** 
 
 Craig stood up. He walked up behind Rob and hugged him tight. He could feel his pulse racing, not as fast as Roberts. While holding him he said the only thing he could think of. 
 
 `` I love you. We have n't known each other long but you're a good guy. You care about others, you try to help, you do what you can. I know you hurt, I know you've been through a lot, but I want to see you tomorrow. I want to try to help you and I want to make your life worth living. That being said, I know that you do n't want to anymore. This is left up to you. I'm not going to drag you off the edge, i'm not going to force you to live. This is your decision. But I hope more than anything that I get a call from you tomorrow. I love you Rob.'' 
 
 He squeezed tight and then let go, backing up. He could see Rob shake, not able to hear sobs through the wind but knowing what was happening. Tears started to roll down his cheek as well. As he turned to walk away, the wind started to die. Each step towards the door he could hear his feet crunch on the weird rooftop gravel below. The hinges on the door squeaked. He heard a couple more sniffles, then, as the door was closing behind him, the sound of jeans on concrete as Rob pushed himself over the edge.
