I wanna write a story about a guy who doesn't age and can live forever.
Once he finds out about his condition, he's ecstatic and overjoyed. He has acquired the one thing that mankind has been striving for for millennia.
Ironically, he'll waste no time making the most of it.
I'll have him fall in love and get married to a beautiful woman. He'll travel the world with her and treat her like a queen.
But, as time goes on, her hair begins to grey, her face to wrinkle, her back to arch. His appearance is unchanging, while she grows old and weak.
He stays by her side all the way up until the moment she passes away.
He's distraught for years. Eventually, though, he moves on with his life and lets go. He finds another wonderful woman and falls in love all over again. With her, he settles down and has children.
He feels joy in watching them grow up. From birth to sending them off to college, he is amazed at the growth that he hasn't experienced in so long.
He watches as the have children of their own, making him a grandfather. But, as it goes, they are just like everyone else, and he is forced to watch as they each die off, one by one.
He chooses to never let himself fall in love or have children again, because the pain of loss is something he knows is impossible to ever get used to.
He keeps track of his lineage, all his children's children's children, until the numbers become too great to watch over, and he isn't sure if the guy across the bar is his descendent or not.
Either way, he's a complete stranger.
He lives through war after war after war, watching as petty, mortal people fight over petty, mortal problems.
The longer he lives, the more disgusted with the human race he becomes, and the more depressed he gets as the world drudges on meaninglessly around him.
Life is a burden, he realizes. It has its good points, he admits, but they're all countered by the inevitable Three-Fold Law of some sort of twisted version of Karma.
Peace is only achieved through war. Love only leads to pain. Life is only given so that we may die.
One day he'll decide he's done with immortality. He'll get a gun and put a bullet in his head. Just before the gun fires, he'll smile. He'll be happy that he found one final satisfaction.
One last thing to feel good about. Just before dying, he is glad to know that it's all finally over. No more pain, no more loss, just a swift, blissful conclusion.
That'd be a nice story. Everyone likes a happy ending.
But the real world doesn't end like that. Some are left with a flattened bullet and the taste of gunpowder in their mouth. For some, life continues on, despite their best effort.
For me, the world never ends.