Late For The Last Time

   I often wondered why you are always late. Are you this disorganized, or are you do it on purpose? Of course, anyone can be late here and there, but you always arrived late. Always. Sometimes just five, sometimes over thirty minutes. Either way, it was long enough for everyone to know that you are running late.

    It came as no surprise when on your first birthday that we celebrated together, everyone remembered this little habit of yours.  It was easy for everyone to come up with the perfect gift. You got three watches (two digital, one analog), two clocks, two alarms, and a pillow shaped like a rooster. Despite all your gifts - and all of them worked perfectly - you still arrived seventeen minutes late in the next week and thanks to you, we almost missed our show. This was the moment when we realized you are late on purpose. 

    I can imagine the devilish grin on your face when you learned that your secret was out. You were busted, and you didn't mind in the slightest. The remaining question was why you liked to be late. You once said I look silly when I am annoyed with you. Perhaps that true - it is not! - but this couldn't be the reason, could it? It took me for a while, but I finally put it together. You always came late because you liked the attention in caused you. "Where is she?" "Why is she late?" "I hope nothing bad happened to her!" You loved it when people were asking about you, even if the reason for the questioning was annoyance and impatience. This was one of your twisted ways to get in the center of attention once again. You wanted people to talk about you, even if in a bad manner. The more attention you got, the happier you were. Some would say you were vain beyond words, but I know of the insecurities you bared under your perfect appearance. Your fear of being left out or being overlooked. That's why you were late, so nothing can start without you. It made you feel important. You were the last piece that has to be placed. You were the key to every event to begin. When I realized this, I felt such a pity for you, but I didn't say anything. You despised when someone even attempted to soothe your bothering feelings. I accepted this little habit of yours and after a while even calculated it when I organized a gathering. I told everyone to come 8.20 and, with you being the only exception, to whom I told we shall meet at 8.00. Yet, you still always managed to show up at 8.35.

    Today was no exception. It was an important day, and you knew it. The more important and event was, the more you arrived late. The more important and event was, the more you arrived late. It's always about proportion, isn't it? With that in mind, I know you'll be late today as well. Everyone else seemed to disagree with me because they were so sure that you'll arrive on time. Even before! “There is no way she would be late today!" "Finally, for once, we won't be needing to wait for her!" They didn't know you, did they? Jason once said you'd be late from your funeral. To you being late was a challenge. Even if we met up close to your flat, you were still the last one to arrive. Here we are today and like so many times before waiting for you. Right now, you are exactly thirty-eight minutes late. Your record is forty-five minutes, and I start to wonder if you'll beat it. Like always, we can't start without you. You, the last remaining piece.

    Everyone is wearing their finest clothes, and I know you'll outshine all of us. If there was another thing, you paid as much attention as to your late arrivals, it was your appearance. I was more than once a witness on how precisely you make yourself the best version imaginable. Your hair and make-up were always on top and didn't matter what we did during the evening, neither of them got ever ruined. This was something I always admired in you. All of your dresses were beautiful and left nothing to the imagination, yet none of them were revealing. Well, too revealing. As I stand here and think about it, I suddenly feel underdressed. I know I am not, I even wearing that golden necklace you gave me for my 20th birthday. Honestly, I feel it a bit much, a bit too ostentatious, but hey, today is your day.

    I can imagine you sitting on your bed ready to go, but instead, you stay with your eyes on the clock waiting for the right time. When we prepared together, I wanted to leave the right time, but you always found something to occupy yourself - and me - to waste time. Drink tea, change batteries, clean the shelves, reply to your emails. I was seriously impressed by how creative you got when it came to staying home a little longer, while you pretended - just for the heck of it - that this isn't the case, and these things were undelayable.

    We already got a call twenty minutes ago that you'll be because of the traffic. I can almost hear you in my mind. "Sorry, sorry, everyone, but the traffic was a nightmare! I swear I left home on time! I can't help if the roads are full, can I?" Of course, you can't manipulate the traffic, so we could say your late arrival isn't your fault. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if you calculated it when you prepared to come. Oh, if you could see us! I'm sure I have never seen this many tiresome faces. I'm sure some people already thinking about leaving. Sometimes people get tired and annoyed at waiting for you, you know? I won't lie, I would be among the happiest if you'd just arrive finally. You have passed the fashionable late arrival.

    After what seemed to be an eternity, we saw a black car taking the last turn coming in our way.

    "Finally."

    I looked to the side and saw your mother-in-law still muttering about how much time she wasted just by waiting for you. 

    I turned back at the car and watched how the driver with the help of three attendants, opens the back of it. The sunlight immediately shined on the pitch-black coffin and the golden letters engraved on the wood. Of course, even your casket is the most elegant one I've ever seen. Beautiful as always, late, as always.

    After a fashionable forty minutes late, we can at last start your ceremony. Because as Jason said, you are the type of person who would be late from your very own funeral.