They Say...

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.

“I love you.”
“What?”
“I said I love you.”
“You are joking?”
“No. I’m not joking!”
“Okay, so you’re saying you love me?”
“Yes.”
“No, no, no. You can’t love me. How can you love me?”
“You’ve always looked out for me. You’ve always been nice to me. You supported me through, through…”
“He was my best friend and your cousin! We felt the same way and we could share that.”
“Exactly! Something in common! I felt close, as if you were the only one who understood me then.”
“You know what I am, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that put you off me? Doesn’t that make you hate me? Isn’t it supposed to mean that you ignore me, never speak to me, look at me?”
“I don’t care what you are!”
“But you should.”
“I love you!”
“Don’t. Don’t love me.”

And he turns his back away from me in shame of himself.