skell
Iron
- Joined
- May 2, 2026
- Posts
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A young man came to me one day, crying.
I asked him why he was crying. He said, "I have no friends. I have no girlfriend. I have no one."
I replied, "You are a defect. People your age have all these things, and yet you have none."
His face turned to anger. "Fuck you, I came to you for help and even you hurt me! I am human too! I just want to be valued by somebody in this fucking world!" His voice trailed off to sobbing again. "Please, at least one person. I just need at least one person to know I exist."
I leaned towards him. “Cry not over being a defect, for you still hold value.”
“What?” he said as he sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.
"People don't find meaning in life the same way. You opened the door for friendship, and there was nothing. You opened the door for companionship, and there was nothing. That does not mean there is nothing for you in life. There's a third door: the ultimate sacrifice a man can gave. The ultimate sacrifice of living his life in pain just to bring happiness to other people."
He tilted his head. "What?"
"You do not burden others in the here and now with your pain. Nor do you not pass your pain along to the next generation. You create meaning and joy for others. What greater purpose can there be? While others live their lives as happily as they can be, you are giving humanity all you can give. You can building the framework for the beauty of life. Even if nobody ever knows your name, you will at least be of value to them."
He gave me a confused look, "But how is that supposed to help me?"
I put my hand on his shoulder, “Oh my dear lost soul, find meaning in the here and now, and it shall set you free. You are not inferior to others for not having what they have. Nay, you are superior because you are willing to be the end of the line. The suffering stops with you. By refusing to pass on your faults, you clear the path for those who come next. Is that not the ultimate love? To bear the winter so others can have the spring?"
“To bear winter…” the faint words escaped through his mouth.
“You will matter. To me, the people downstairs, to the neighbors next door, to the people at work, to your mother, to your abusers, to everyone.”
He looked at me and smiled through the tears still rolling down his face. "Thank you," he said, as he hugged me. He was in pain, but no longer the type of pain driven by grief. It was the heavy, blissful pain of a martyr.
I lowered his left arm and put the blade into his hand. His expression did not change. He did not look down. He knew what I put into his hand. "I will help set you free." I wrapped my hand around his hand and guided it until the blade touched his skin. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
I pulled it back and rammed it into his gut. A yelp came out. I grasped the handle with all that was left inside of me and helped him twist it. A silent moan came out as he stumbled back. His mouth was open, but I saw a faint smile. “Thank you.”
He could not stand after a while. He sat on the floor. Then he could not sit after a while. His body gave way and he collapsed to the floor. I looked into his eyes. They stared back the ceiling. He was gasping. I grabbed his hand. I grabbed his hand for a long damn time. The gasping began to slow. And then the gasping stopped. I let go of his hand and covered his eyelids.
Tears rolled down my face. I wiped them off. His sacrifice lives on inside each and every one of us.
I asked him why he was crying. He said, "I have no friends. I have no girlfriend. I have no one."
I replied, "You are a defect. People your age have all these things, and yet you have none."
His face turned to anger. "Fuck you, I came to you for help and even you hurt me! I am human too! I just want to be valued by somebody in this fucking world!" His voice trailed off to sobbing again. "Please, at least one person. I just need at least one person to know I exist."
I leaned towards him. “Cry not over being a defect, for you still hold value.”
“What?” he said as he sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.
"People don't find meaning in life the same way. You opened the door for friendship, and there was nothing. You opened the door for companionship, and there was nothing. That does not mean there is nothing for you in life. There's a third door: the ultimate sacrifice a man can gave. The ultimate sacrifice of living his life in pain just to bring happiness to other people."
He tilted his head. "What?"
"You do not burden others in the here and now with your pain. Nor do you not pass your pain along to the next generation. You create meaning and joy for others. What greater purpose can there be? While others live their lives as happily as they can be, you are giving humanity all you can give. You can building the framework for the beauty of life. Even if nobody ever knows your name, you will at least be of value to them."
He gave me a confused look, "But how is that supposed to help me?"
I put my hand on his shoulder, “Oh my dear lost soul, find meaning in the here and now, and it shall set you free. You are not inferior to others for not having what they have. Nay, you are superior because you are willing to be the end of the line. The suffering stops with you. By refusing to pass on your faults, you clear the path for those who come next. Is that not the ultimate love? To bear the winter so others can have the spring?"
“To bear winter…” the faint words escaped through his mouth.
“You will matter. To me, the people downstairs, to the neighbors next door, to the people at work, to your mother, to your abusers, to everyone.”
He looked at me and smiled through the tears still rolling down his face. "Thank you," he said, as he hugged me. He was in pain, but no longer the type of pain driven by grief. It was the heavy, blissful pain of a martyr.
I lowered his left arm and put the blade into his hand. His expression did not change. He did not look down. He knew what I put into his hand. "I will help set you free." I wrapped my hand around his hand and guided it until the blade touched his skin. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
I pulled it back and rammed it into his gut. A yelp came out. I grasped the handle with all that was left inside of me and helped him twist it. A silent moan came out as he stumbled back. His mouth was open, but I saw a faint smile. “Thank you.”
He could not stand after a while. He sat on the floor. Then he could not sit after a while. His body gave way and he collapsed to the floor. I looked into his eyes. They stared back the ceiling. He was gasping. I grabbed his hand. I grabbed his hand for a long damn time. The gasping began to slow. And then the gasping stopped. I let go of his hand and covered his eyelids.
Tears rolled down my face. I wiped them off. His sacrifice lives on inside each and every one of us.
