[ WP ] Two strangers are about commit suicide talk to each other about why they 're doing this . They have conflicting reasons .

I'm not rude. I can volley small talk and identify that groove in a person's self esteem where a compliment could be inserted ( like your waiter might do when their rent comes looming ). I place those compliments carefully, knowing exactly how the little groove got there in the first place. Even though pervasive comfort and complacency have ruined our human utopia, I still ca n't stomach watching a kid lose a stuffed animal. I remember how I could fit so much attachment into a terrycloth rabbit in my youth. I remember leaving the rabbit at a La Quinta outside of New Braunfels on vacation twelve summers ago and feeling every fiber of emotion being sucked through his black bead eyes back into mine through the tinted windows of a Waco-bound greyish Dodge Intrepid. I had transposed misplacing an item into abandoning a living, loving thing. 
 
 To be honest, The only security I have ever known came from shirking the love I enlisted to anchor material possessions into my earthly endeavors. I recognize that most people do n't feel that way, and I hurt deeply for them. It is n't a pain of pity. I believe it's fear stinging in my memory. When I see a kid losing his rabbit, some part of me drives all the way back to New Braunfels every time. That's why heading home from a party long-ended took a backseat to hearing the carefully-angled comedy of errors being orated bitterly from the bottle-strewn porch of the blue-green two-story on Chittersby. 
 David rambled himself back into sobriety over the course of an hour or so. By the first break in his self-sympathizing soliloquizing, every other show-goer had hailed a cab excluding myself. If i head home now, i thought, my arrival will likely wake up my live-in girlfriend. Then she might want to talk to me, or touch my skin. Anything outside of the house beats that, even rabbit recovery. 
 
 Arbitrary social interaction, random sex, and binge drinking kept me entertained while I waited for my Mom to die. It is n't as fucked up as it sounds, she was n't sick or anything. Poor health maybe, but not sick. As a youngster I loved her more than any person alive. As I grew older we fought, but I still loved my memories of our relationship more than I could ever love anything else. I vowed to never hurt her. When I resolved to take my own life about a year ago I was fully aware that I'd have to wait until Mom was dead. Last month her bleakest years drew to a close without climax; she died in her sleep, at home. 
 
 David sensed that his sole audience member had drifted away from his dramatic offerings into their own thoughts and experiences. I suspect that David is sensitive to these types of shifts, because his speaking voice grew loud in an attempt to re-recruit my attention and empathy and loud enough to wake up the slumbering party host behind the porch window. She came outside. Being two total strangers on her property, I took her request as reasonable and politely apologized after we were asked to leave her home. 
 
 Knowing that we would likely never meet again, David reached out. On our short walk through the big crunchy yard he disclosed that he had a stockpile of pain killers and soon everyone would realize that they trampled the wrong guy. Everyone would regret not loving him. Even me, because I was just like every one else. Shallow. Insincere. 
 I stopped him as he crossed the street. I stopped him to tell him exactly how wrong he was. To tell him that I knew exactly how if felt to have your love ripped out of someone and shot right back into yourself without so much as a good-bye or a thank you note. 
 
 I needed David to know that I had lost so much love that I did n't want any more. I was ready to die with a smile, because that was my best middle finger to the absurd blink of existence known as humanity. I inhaled, preparing to take this kid's rabbit and destroy it right in front of him, right in the middle of the god damned street. 
 In the heat of the exchange, Neither of us heard the drunk driver speeding as fast as he could away from an accident he had caused a few blocks over.
