Hell is other people
“They say... Hell is other people...”
“That... That’s true. Yeah.”
“Well I don’t think.... That’s entirely true.”
Somehow, I choked out a dry laugh. I squeezed their hand, pulling it closer to me.
“Well,” I allowed my voice to break, to crumble a little, before I slowly picked the pieces up again, and worked my way towards what I wanted to say.
“You’ve never been the most agreeable... Have you? Always simply had to find the cracks in others, and from those cracks-” I clenched my teeth against the tears. They stroked my hand. I drew in a shaky breath. Before continuing. “And from those cracks, you would nurture the most gorgeous of gardens.”
“Hey hey, don’t get all sappy on me, you’re distracting from the original point.”
“Maybe all I want is to get distracted, with you, veering off course, into the unknown, doing all kinds of stupid shit for no discernable reason, just... forever.”
“That just goes to prove my original point.”
“Which was?”
“Other people aren’t hell, that’s stupid. Other people are earth. Messy and disorganized and kinda scary sometimes. But oh so so very full of life.”
“But... What about now?”
I said into a cold abyss.
“Well,” they said, their astral form slowly forming beside me.
“I’ll be your purgatory, if you’ll be mine”
