I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

“Not anymore.”
“Why?” she asks, and I can’t help but indulge the tragedy in her
voice.
“It’s not a part of me.”
“Who stole it?” I almost want to smile at the way her wit survives
even the sad moments. “There must be something you want.”
“I want answers,” I say.
“Answers?”
“Reasons.”
“I thought reasons didn’t exist.”
“I wish one did.”
“And what one reason do you wish for?”
Our words fold over each other, dance together as our hands mimic
them, act them out, that comfortable, ruinous distance the only thing
keeping her mine, ghostly, unreal. But her questions, her voice, her
scent, they feel so palpable I want to bottle them.
“I want to know why people die,” I say, but asking why people die is
the same as asking the dead to haunt. There’s no one there to
answer you. I shake my head. “I know it’s stupid–”
“How long do you have?” Hikari asks, sullen.
“What?”
“Are you dying?”
I scoff. “We’re all dying.”