His Last Days

1.

That morning, he woke up not hearing the sound of alarm, but because the early morning sunlight disturbed his sleep. The ceiling above his head was an unfamiliar one. Where am I? He wondered for a minute. Then slowly he came to his senses, and realized where he was and why.

He rubbed his heavy eyelids in an attempt to rub off the sleepiness. It was more out of habit than an obligation. After all, he didn’t have to wake up early in the morning from now on. He could sleep in as much as he wanted now, but now that he actually had the chance to do so, he didn’t have the urge to sleep in anymore.

When was the last time I got to enjoy a proper vacation? He hardly remembered. Honeymoon period was probably the last time. After that, he got too caught up in work and life that it left him drained out, devoid of energy. Nowadays he barely had time to sit down and think about anything, and even when he had time he lacked the energy and mood.

You are not the only one living like that, he said to himself, everyone around you is living the same way. That's how adult life is.

That belief was what held him together from falling apart. That was, until one day, something unexpected came up and gave him a loud shake.

He rolled on the other side of the empty bed. For the last fifteen years, he had been sleeping together with someone else. He forgot what it was like to sleep alone. It was one of many things he had forgotten.

It’s a beautiful day, he thought. Despite the fact that it was only morning and soon the sun would start to pour its heat mercilessly, draining people’s energy, it was still going to be a beautiful day. At least to him.

Finally, he got up from the bed. He washed up slower than other days because he wasn’t in a hurry, He thought while getting out to get a cup of coffee and breakfast.

There was a small restaurant in walking distance from his residence. He had his breakfast there while watching people in a rush. Not so long ago I was one of them. Look at me now. What's the point of rushing so much, anyway?

On his way home, he bought some groceries. He couldn’t live on takeout foods forever, and since he could cook why bother with takeouts.

Back home, he lay on the bed again with a Haruki Murakami book. Haruki Murakami was his favourite writer ever since he was nineteen. His books had a certain charm in them that never failed to draw him in. More than the contents of the book, he was a fan of Murakami's writing style. The vivid descriptions made him feel as if he was being dragged inside the book. He found the writing style very smooth and easy-to-read.

Lost in the book, he was oblivious to how much time passed. When he finally got up from the bed, it was noon. As lunch, he fried an egg for himself and ate that with rice. Then he took a nap.

In the afternoon, he went to take a walk. There was hardly anyone around his age walking around like he did. The ones who were there weren’t alone like him, they had their wives or children or both with them. He walked until the sunset, and then he returned home.

Climbing on his bed, he decided to watch a movie. After a long search, he settled on Dead Poets Society. He remembered the first time he watched the movie with a friend. That friend of him was really sensitive, and by the end of the movie he started crying. He managed to calm his friend down after putting much effort. He wondered how that friend of his was doing now. Did he have the courage to go after his dream, or did he give in to the flow of society? He sincerely hoped for the latter, his friend was quite a dreamer after all.

He wanted to call his friend and say, "Hey, you know what, I rewatched Dead Poets Society today for the first time in years and I thought of you. I wondered how you have been doing. It’s been quite a while, right? Sorry, I have been too caught up in life to check on you. I'm sure you were busy too." But he lost his friend's contact information long ago.

After watching the movie, he lay on the bed again, and contemplated about his life and life choices. He gave up on his dreams long ago. He had to when he got married and had to take responsibility his new family. Marrying her was his choice, while the choice of giving up on his dreams wasn’t entirely his. Not that he blamed his wife for that. If anything, he blamed himself. He wondered how life would turn out to be if he hadn’t fallen in love with her. He probably would pursue his dreams, but there was a chance that he would stay alone.

Well, in the end, I'm still alone, ain't I?

Being alone right now was also his choice. He was the one who decided to stay separated from his wife for time being after losing his job. Being fired wasn’t his choice, though, that was the last thing he expected. But turned out, at that moment it was the best thing that could happen to him.

After all, he got to enjoy a slow morning and a Murakami book and went for a walk and watched a movie and not to mention slept a lot for the first time in years. He forgot how those simple actions could make someone happy.

He thought of giving his wife a call, but stopped. I am enjoying my vacation. I better not call her. His wife had become a part of his hectic daily life. Calling her felt like dragging himself to that world again. He didn’t want that.

That night, it took him a little longer than usual to fall asleep. But when he slept, he slept soundly. He didn’t dream.

2.

One afternoon, he called his wife.

"Finally, you called," that was what she said upon picking up.

"Sorry it took me so long to call you. Anyway, when you get a bit free time, can you come by my place? I want to talk to you face-to-face."

"Why don't you come by instead?"

"I don't feel like leaving my place."

"Can't it be talked over phone?" she sounded tired.

"No."

"Fine, then," she gave in, "I'll come by this weekend."

He was lying on his bed when doorbell rang. He opened the door to find his wife.

"I was waiting for you. Come in, have a seat."

She sat down.

"There is something I need to tell you."

"What is it?"

"It’s not your fault that we separated. The reason I decided to live separately is not because you are not good enough or you hurt me or anything like that. It’s just...a result of my selfishness."

"I am not blaming you."

"You deserve to know why I made that decision, as my partner."

"That's true indeed."

"The thing is...over the years, we have fallen out of love, don't you think?”

“It has become more like a habit, us staying together. We are not even contributing in each other's lives anymore. We live under the same roof but we live different lives. Even now...it seems like my absence isn't affecting you that much. And to be honest, your absence isn't affecting me either. Even when I miss you, it’s out of habit and not emotional attachment."

"Isn't it inevitable? Both of us are adults now, and we have a lot on our plates. Work. Finance. We don’t have room for worrying about falling in and out of love when we are at our thirties."

"But even so, don't you this we are a little, you know, too indifferent about each other at this point as partners? I decided to get separated and you aren’t even interested about why I made such a decision. I am not worrying about what kind of life you are living in my absence, either. Isn’t it abnormal for a couple who spent fifteen years together?"

"Maybe so."

"You are not even bothered by the fact that I lost my job."

"Well, I am not financially dependent on you anymore, so why would I worry about that?"

"Isn't it funny? You were the reason I decided to get a stable job. But in the end...What have I done with my life?"

She didn’t say anything in response to that.

"Tell me. Are you seeing someone?"

"I have no intention to have an affair."

"Is that so? Maybe this is your chance to find someone new and have a fresh start, now that I almost let go of you."

"I don’t want to. I like my life as it is now. If anything, you are the one who should take the chance."

"I also like my life the way it is now. I take photos and walk around the city, sleep a lot and read often. I even own a cat now."

"A cat?"

"Hmm. I bumped into a stray cat and took it in."

"Good for you."

"You should come by sometimes, you know, and we can have conversations like this is over a cup of coffee. It feels like old times but in a slightly different way."

"Hmmmm. Doesn’t sound bad."

"And just in case, the passcode of my front door is 2104."

"Our wedding date? That was such an old-fashioned way to assign a passcode."

She smiled.

"It’s easy to remember."

"It indeed is."

3.

It was just an ordinary afternoon.

He had been feeling out of sorts for last few days. The left side of his chest wouldn’t stop aching.

That day, the pain became unbearable. Unable to take it any longer, he fell on his bed, facedown. The sun was about to set.

Is this how I am going to die?

He called his wife. No answer. He attempted to call again, but stopped. She must be busy.

At that moment, wave of loneliness washed over him. He wished for someone to be by his side like never before. It wouldn’t make his pain any less, but at least he could get a glass of water or a warm hand holding onto his. He closed his eyes in pain.

When he opened them again, he felt a warm presence next to him. It was none other than his cat, the only companion in his solitary life.

“There you are,” he said in a weak voice, and gently ran his fingers through the cat’s white, fluffy fur. The cat probably sensed that something was wrong with its owner. It licked his cheek and neck, as if it was comforting him in its own way. It worked, because he felt a little less lonely.

In the faint light of dusk, he looked at the photographs hung on the wall. Those photographs were taken by him. Every single one had a story behind it. Some of them had memories associated with them. Looking at those photographs always comforted him.

Most of the pictures on his wall were of sky. He loved taking pictures of sky. He took countless photos of sky. Morning sky. Evening sky. Cloudy sky. Sunset. Sunrise. Different shades. Different angles. Different times, places and colours. He said that sky was that one thing that he never grew tired watching, as it looked different everyday.

There were also a bunch of pictures of the road and the streetlights. More than the green of the nature, the grey concrete attracted him more. He loved the city.

He wanted to hold exhibitions. An exhibition with the photos of sky. Another with the photos of concrete-grey city. But in the end, that was just a dream. A futile wish he knew wouldn’t come true.

He thought of his family. His parents were probably at one of their older son’s place. He thought of his elder brothers who were always busy with their works. Not so long ago, he was just like them. He didn’t tell his parents or brothers about his unemployment or separation from his wife. He didn’t feel like letting them know and getting bombarded with questions and judgemental remarks.

He wanted to be acknowledged. He wished his family would recognize him as who he was. In the end, it remained as just a wish.

He felt that he needed to go to hospital. He was already unable to get up from the bed and there was no way he could look after himself given the state he was in. He reached for the phone and dialled 911. Shortly after, his wife called him back.

"What's wrong? You don’t sound good."

I feel like dying, that's what he wanted to say. And I am feeling really lonely right now.

Instead, he just said,"I'm sick."

"What happened? Do you need to go to hospital? Should I come?” She said in a concerned voice.

"I have called an ambulance already. I'll call you after arriving in hospital, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Finishing the call, he patted his cat again, ever so gently. While doing that, he talked to it, knowing all too well that cats don't understand human language, “I am sorry. I will probably have to leave you all alone and I don't know for how long. I hope someone will take care of you. If they don't, then I hope you will be able to take care of yourself.”

He kept patting the cat his fingers no longer moved. As his eyes fell shut and his breathing shortened, the cat licked him again and meowed.

By the time the ambulance arrived, he and his cat both fell asleep – while his cat was taking just a nap, he fell into eternal sleep. His breathing had stopped.

Epilogue

When the cat woke up next morning, its owner was nowhere to be found.

Later, a woman came to his apartment and packed his belongings while crying.

Soon after, the cat ran away to the street. It was a stray to begin with.