I sat there with the hypo all afternoon, then I decided to sleep
on it, and I got up the next morning and did it all over again. I looked
inside myself, and I saw that I didn't have the guts. I just didn't have
the guts. I've stared down the barrels of a hundred guns, had a thousand
knives pressed up against my throat, but I didn't have the guts to press
that button."
"You were too late," Lil said.
We both turned to look at her.
"You were a decade too late. Look at you. You're pathetic. If you killed
yourself right now, you'd just be a washed-up loser who couldn't hack
it. If you'd done it ten years earlier, you would've been going out on
top -- a champion, retiring permanently." She set her mug down with a
harder-than-necessary clunk.
Sometimes, Lil and I are right on the same wavelength. Sometimes, it's
like she's on a different planet. All I could do was sit there,
horrified, and she was happy to discuss the timing of my pal's suicide.
But she was right. Dan nodded heavily, and I saw that he knew it, too.
"A day late and a dollar short," he sighed.
"Well, don't just sit there," she said.
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