Someone close to me died unexpectedly and it got me thinking about death, about life. How fragile and how short it is -though at times it feels incredibly long. How fleeing it is, how random, and yet how lovely.I always thought I had a very fucked way of looking at death, a fucked up way of dealing with it. I didn't. I always feel that people who have died just sort of go on a permanent vacation and they're just not around.
Not dead. Call it denial, call it whatever you'd like, but I guess it is the way my own self-defense mechanism works in order to help me deal, in order for me to be strong for the people around me, and I usually become that person -the "strong-asshole-who-everyone-thinks-is-an-insensitive-fuck", I'm the one who always grieves alone, and I do. As I stood inside a church today, it finally hit me. I never really feel that bad for the person who passes away, I don't feel bad at all actually.I feel bad for those around me, those alive who suffer. I cried, and not sobbed, tears rolled down my face as I stared at that void in that big room with the smell of incense and I felt such an emptiness, I felt powerless -which to me is by far the worst feeling to be felt. How I wished I could heal their pain, how I wish a word, a smile, a hug, a shoulder to cry on, could take it all away. But there I was, absolutely fucking powerless. As every one of my tears rolled down my cheeks I wish I could pull them back into my eye socket, like a vacuum, like crying in reverse, and every drop was a reminder of that "powerlessness".
Every time I felt them fall, I thought they were mocking me, for there was nothing I could do. I don't want to bring people back from the dead, I know that to die is to have lived. All I want is to take their pain away somehow, but then again to feel pain is also to live. It's all part of it, and it just simply comes with the territory. I saw raw emotion, it was palpable -incredibly sad, and yet beautiful.I saw a mother who lost a child, and I don't have children, but loosing one has got to be... there just simply isn't a word to describe it, there just simply isn't one. I saw raw pain, it was real and in the middle of it all I saw love, the most beautiful kind.
The irony of it all I thought, to come to grieve a deceased to simply reassure myself that love is just as real as the pain. To have shared, to have lived, to have laughed, to have loved and to be loved in return makes it all worth it.
I had to go there to be able to say I need to enjoy my life more, I need to share more, I want to laugh, I want to smile to strangers on the street, I want to hug a friend, I want to taste some food, I want to smell a flower, I want to dance, I want to sing, I want to cry and not feel sad, I want to cry simply because I am happy, no matter if tomorrow never comes, I feel happy now.This moment is unique and by the time I'm done writing this, it will be gone.
It is that special. I'm not a religious person -at all. Faith is something I guess I just don't have much of, but I do believe that somehow, that soul is somewhere better. I don't think, I can NOT think "This is it for them". There's got to be something after this, I wonder -not wonder, I believe