Death comes for everyone, but Death has been by my side for years.

"Are you there?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"I am." It replies, a mere echo. Death's voice was soft, easy as a lullaby.

I stare at the familiar figure in the corner of my bedroom. Amidst the fading wallpaper and the creaky floorboards it stood solemnly. So beautiful, as I've always thought, glowing with a gentle white light. My oldest friend.

"Are you sad?” My voice is timid—shaky.

"I am."

"Why?"

Death did not answer me for a long while. Time was different now; it churned on and on as if it were a mist swirling in the ether. Moments stretched, blending together for what seemed like ages. I counted it as best I could with each beat of my heart. Slow, faltering. I lost track amidst the silence.

"A fine life reaches its conclusion." It finally said. "I must take you, and I must let you go."

For an immeasurable moment, I didn't know what to say. It never occurred to me that Death lost as much as it took, and a deep sadness wrapped around my heart. "You can't come with me?" It was almost a plea.

"No." Its voice was stoic, unmoving.

Suddenly, fear struck me in a way it never had before. A well of sorrow sank in my gut. If I went, I would go alone. It seems that Death was finally willing to take me, despite me reaching for it countless times before.

Death drifted gently to my side. "You will finally know peace."

"What will happen to you?" My heart faltered again.

"I will persist," it murmured in reply. "Forevermore."

_Lonely._ I thought, crestfallen. _You’ll be lonely._ I surprised myself. Death had always been there, for my life and for countless lives before me. Who was I to think that I was so important as to have any consequence to how Death existed? _But you are important to me…_

My heart faltered a final time, and now I knew. I was tired. The fear I had felt just moments before began slipping away as I gazed at Death by my side. Just one more goodbye left to give. “I’ll miss you, old friend."

“And I, you." It stayed with me as time swirled on. Not rushing, not impeding.

We both knew my end had come. I offered my hand, trembling. Unlike any other time in which I begged Death to take it, Death finally acquiesced. There was warmth then, at the joining of our hands.

"Go easily," Death said, a quiet benediction.

My breath rose and fell, echoing in the air around me. It waned slowly as my heart's song drifted towards its close. I felt it—all that we were, Death and I. Light and beauty and weightlessness. Together until this moment. As the echoes faded, Death let me go.

And I found absolution.