How To Die

It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives.

A quote by Samuel Johnson. No fucking clue who that is and quite frankly, I don't give two shits. That's not the point.

It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. Bittersweet words to say the least. So very bittersweet. In some cases, completely accurate but in others, completely wrong. It doesn't really matter which one is more important - how I have lived or how I am inevitably going to die. Neither is particularly good, neither is better than the other.

See, it could be said that I haven't lived my life the best way. Murder, theft, assault, endless acts of aggression, joining and eventually leading the Mafia. All of these are things I have used my last five years for. After leaving my home at Wammy's House in a fit of rage only eight days before my fifteenth birthday, my life went into a downward spiral. A spiral that showed what I was really made of, although that was neither good nor bad. But to me, what counted was that I managed it. I could cope with the pressure, I could dole out my own twisted justice and I could become successful in a career path. Yes, that career path was the Mafia and it may not be every person's ideal career to make it to the top of, most people aspire to be a doctor or a fire-fighter or something equally honourable, but the point is that I did it.

Admittedly, I did none of that alone, and this is where the redeeming part of my life comes in. Matt. My Mattie. My best friend, my love, my reason for living. My good side only existed for him, when we were together and alone. He entered the orphanage when I was nine years old and my life wasn't the same again. To put it simply, he saved me and I was never alone after that. We went from roommates, to partners in crime, to best friends, to lovers. Matt made me want to be a better person and I tried so hard to be just that, but when other people were around, it just changed. It was uncontrollable, an automatic reaction, a tough mask that drew itself across my true face as soon as the moments with my Mattie ended.

My Mattie. The most pure and beautiful person I've ever known. With his odd little quirks, his unique way of looking at the world through orange-tinted lenses, his honesty and passion, the way he loved me unconditionally, in spite of my flaws. Through all of the bad, he could see through the mask. He never lost focus, never lost sight of the real me that he knew was underneath. And I loved him more than anything for all of that. I owed him my sanity, my life, my everything.

He left the orphanage behind for me. I was determined to leave and he was determined to remain by my side no matter what although I tried to tell him no. But at the end of the day, I was too selfish to keep it up. I couldn't leave him. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. So I grabbed his hand and we fled together, making our escape off into the real world. And that's why he died. That's why it's my fault.

Thinking of Matt, I believe in the truthfulness of that quote with my whole heart. You cannot define Matt by the way that he died. Shooting, car chases and putting on an arrogant façade None of that was Matt. That was all because of me. All of it was what Matt did because he loved me. Because I needed help and he was so dedicated. He couldn't watch me suffer and not help, another true sign of his purity. His life was the important thing. How he was loving and sweet and made my heart skip beats. How he was a genius with unhealthy addictions to gaming and smoking. How he would do anything to stop those he loved from being in pain.

This was a suicide mission from the start for both of us and I was stupid to think otherwise. Hope makes the cleverest of people dumb. And it may be cliché and it's unlikely anybody will understand this or believe it but I never thought it would go this far. Somewhere, underneath the rough 'don't give a damn' exterior, I truly believed in happy endings. In the childish ideal that good always triumphed over evil, and no sacrifices had to be made along the way. In the bigger scheme of things, good may still win and Matt and I, we will be thought of as minor characters. Small sacrifices that had to be made for the greater good.

So here, I feel my heart stop beating and my breathing slow down rapidly and it's true what they say. Your life flashes before your eyes, which is why I saw my Mattie. He was my life after all.

It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives.