"There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken. Or if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman." - The Tale of Despereaux
Hearts break, and people fall. Of course, the one that has had their heart broken are the ones that fall so quickly. Maybe it's because of an attachment, or maybe it's just because of they way they looked when doing it. When a person says they're sorry, they usually show some sort of emotion, along the lines of sadness, regret... But when a person shows nothing... That's when it hurts the most.
And then they try to pass off their confusion and lack of sympathy as you trying to blame them. Even though you should, but you won't. They get defensive and tell you that you should not be telling them what they are and are not. But it's how you felt. They told you how they felt, so why can you not tell them your side? Yes it hurts, but everything hurts. If it was a day, a week, a month, a year... They all hurt.
And then... not knowing what to say... Hurts most of all. What do you do? Stay friends? Become enemies? Maybe neither. Your head tells you to hate them, but your heart tells you otherwise. So which do you listen to? Head, or heart? In times like these, in hurt times, it's hard to choose which one to listen to.
But you're tired of all this. You're tired of hurt, pain, loneliness, regret... You're tired of not sleeping, of the guilt, of the heartbreak.... And you don't want to deal with it anymore, but it's life and it's one of many things to go wrong. To not go according to plan. You've shed your tears, but at points in time, they come back.
So for the night, you will sit on the edge of your roof and ignore the phone that sits beside you, teetering back and fourth, wondering what would happen if you teetered just a little too far forward...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Pull Me Along
You know, leading someone on is never good. Whether you tell them early on or late, it still sucks. For either person. Why would you want to do that anyway? It's not like it's fun. And if it is, then you've got something wrong. I mean, why would you want to do that? Pretend that you want someone, you want to have them, hold them, date them, whatever, then do a complete 360 and turn them around? It's not fair to them if they had no warning.
Why do people do this? Is it the fact that one person is so emotionally weak and looking for that one person to have and to hold, that they would do anything? Or is it the fact that you just find it fun to bet on the person you can make fall for you? These little things in life are the things that make us want to scream, but these things also make us become who we are. Sometimes a heartbreak is the thing that can kill you, or make you. Hopefully it makes you because if you die, you've lost a very important part of your life.
I could be just rambling at this stage, but when I type these things, I just let my fingers go and write down exactly what I'm thinking, and nothing less.
People are beings that... Find the simplest humor in torture of another. Emotionally, physically or mentally. Any way they can get you to squirm, they'll do it. They're the most sadistic. But a heart is something that should never, ever be played with. The heart is one thing that a person needs most. If a person cannot trust, they cannot love. And a life without love, is a life not worth living.
But with trust and love, there comes betrayal and heartbreak. With those two things, there comes inevitable sadness and anger. When things first play out for the worse, sadness is the first feeling to come. Usually, but not always. Sometimes the sadness isn't so bad, depending on the severity of the wound. But a lot of the time, anger controls you. And when anger controls a person, bad things may happen.
Wow, I got off topic...
In short, people are... basically... sadistic. They hurt and kill without knowing, but with pleasure. It's a horrible experience, but it's one that everyone goes through because we all have a heart. We all have emotions, whether or not we want to admit it. Being lead on sucks. Being pulled along on a string, helplessly...
Why do people do this? Is it the fact that one person is so emotionally weak and looking for that one person to have and to hold, that they would do anything? Or is it the fact that you just find it fun to bet on the person you can make fall for you? These little things in life are the things that make us want to scream, but these things also make us become who we are. Sometimes a heartbreak is the thing that can kill you, or make you. Hopefully it makes you because if you die, you've lost a very important part of your life.
I could be just rambling at this stage, but when I type these things, I just let my fingers go and write down exactly what I'm thinking, and nothing less.
People are beings that... Find the simplest humor in torture of another. Emotionally, physically or mentally. Any way they can get you to squirm, they'll do it. They're the most sadistic. But a heart is something that should never, ever be played with. The heart is one thing that a person needs most. If a person cannot trust, they cannot love. And a life without love, is a life not worth living.
But with trust and love, there comes betrayal and heartbreak. With those two things, there comes inevitable sadness and anger. When things first play out for the worse, sadness is the first feeling to come. Usually, but not always. Sometimes the sadness isn't so bad, depending on the severity of the wound. But a lot of the time, anger controls you. And when anger controls a person, bad things may happen.
Wow, I got off topic...
In short, people are... basically... sadistic. They hurt and kill without knowing, but with pleasure. It's a horrible experience, but it's one that everyone goes through because we all have a heart. We all have emotions, whether or not we want to admit it. Being lead on sucks. Being pulled along on a string, helplessly...
Friday, March 13, 2009
Shot
A dog barked and ran. The soft thuds of each paw hitting the earth was muffled by the grass. The round, green and purple tennis ball flew out of the hand of a somewhat tall girl, laughing as she enjoyed the game of fetch.
The yard was big, but it was not hers. She didn't even know why she was there. She threw the ball hard. Over a hill and down the other side. The dog didn't even run after it. The girl ran to the ball, her brown hair back in a ponytail. She bent down to pick up the ball, her knees making a slightly sickening crack as she lowered herself.
Soft footsteps were heard behind her, startling her. She quickly turned around and saw three men, two friends and her significant other. All three were brothers, but only two by blood.
A smile started to snake its way across her face, but quickly faded once a gun with a silencer was raised. It was a MGC Ingram M11 Heavy Weight. A friend shot the ball from her hand, face showing no emotion. He raised it a little higher, and that's when she ran.
She ran through woods. The path was narrow and heavily wooded, she had to swerve, jump and move out of the way so she didn't fall. Tree branches hit her, cut her and slowed her down. Their roots came out of the ground in many parts, making her jump over them.
Four women blocked the path. An elderly grandmother, a mother and two daughters.
They're trying to kill me. There's something going on.
But they didn't giver her a second thought. Her lungs were on fire, her legs were weak, and she felt the blood that still ran warm in her veins, running through her system. They were all behind her, swift and silent.
She was sure to be finished until she saw a long, stone pathway, with grass on either side. The president at the very end of the pathway. Few people were there, but enough were. She fell before the president and stayed there.
He was so nice.
She looked back and there he was. Her lover, her romancer. He was being swift, cutting onto the grass. She lost it. The brown haired girl yelled, ran and attacked him, tackling him to the ground.
She hit him over, and over again, blue eyes filling with tears.
'How could you?! You're supposed to protect me!' She hit him again. 'You're supposed to love me!'
She rolled off of him and took his face in bother pale hands. 'We've known each other so long!'
He pinned her to the ground so she couldn't harm him anymore. He tried to calm her down as she cried. He picked her up and held her, sitting in a tree, holding her in his arms.
'When am I supposed to die?'
'When you look at the president.'
'But he's over there.'
He was to her side. She looked back to see a man dressed in all black, standing a few feet away with a gun. The same gun. She screamed, jumped down and ran to protect herself. Someone was running around, trying to protect her, but it was her lover, who shot her.
She looked at him as he lowered the gun, and she fell.
'I never did.'
The yard was big, but it was not hers. She didn't even know why she was there. She threw the ball hard. Over a hill and down the other side. The dog didn't even run after it. The girl ran to the ball, her brown hair back in a ponytail. She bent down to pick up the ball, her knees making a slightly sickening crack as she lowered herself.
Soft footsteps were heard behind her, startling her. She quickly turned around and saw three men, two friends and her significant other. All three were brothers, but only two by blood.
A smile started to snake its way across her face, but quickly faded once a gun with a silencer was raised. It was a MGC Ingram M11 Heavy Weight. A friend shot the ball from her hand, face showing no emotion. He raised it a little higher, and that's when she ran.
She ran through woods. The path was narrow and heavily wooded, she had to swerve, jump and move out of the way so she didn't fall. Tree branches hit her, cut her and slowed her down. Their roots came out of the ground in many parts, making her jump over them.
Four women blocked the path. An elderly grandmother, a mother and two daughters.
They're trying to kill me. There's something going on.
But they didn't giver her a second thought. Her lungs were on fire, her legs were weak, and she felt the blood that still ran warm in her veins, running through her system. They were all behind her, swift and silent.
She was sure to be finished until she saw a long, stone pathway, with grass on either side. The president at the very end of the pathway. Few people were there, but enough were. She fell before the president and stayed there.
He was so nice.
She looked back and there he was. Her lover, her romancer. He was being swift, cutting onto the grass. She lost it. The brown haired girl yelled, ran and attacked him, tackling him to the ground.
She hit him over, and over again, blue eyes filling with tears.
'How could you?! You're supposed to protect me!' She hit him again. 'You're supposed to love me!'
She rolled off of him and took his face in bother pale hands. 'We've known each other so long!'
He pinned her to the ground so she couldn't harm him anymore. He tried to calm her down as she cried. He picked her up and held her, sitting in a tree, holding her in his arms.
'When am I supposed to die?'
'When you look at the president.'
'But he's over there.'
He was to her side. She looked back to see a man dressed in all black, standing a few feet away with a gun. The same gun. She screamed, jumped down and ran to protect herself. Someone was running around, trying to protect her, but it was her lover, who shot her.
She looked at him as he lowered the gun, and she fell.
'I never did.'
Everybody Leaves
Everybody always leaves. That's the scary thing. You never know who to love, who to trust, or which direction you want to go. You say you will never leave, but you always end up doing just that.
Leave.
It's what people do best. Some may not realize that, but it happens. You don't consider the consequences, good or bad. You would walk away from someone that needed you, you would leave them alone... Again. Just as you found them in the first place.
When you're young, it happens, and when you're old, it happens. People of all shapes and sizes leave, different ethnicities, different everything. You can never be 100% sure unless you know someone, but even then you're scared. You're scared of being alone, being abandoned... You would rather hate instead of being alone because then at least you knew someone was thinking about you, even in a bad way.
Because you can Never truly know what's in store for you until you enter, unless you take the initiative to do something about your unhappiness, your fear. But yet.... We understand. We understand that you're hesitant to trust. How can you tell what’s real? Whether it’s love or just lust? We should make everyone stay, stay a little longer. Hold them a little longer, kiss them a little longer, need them a little longer. Because once someone is gone, maybe we start getting used to the idea of not having them, and we become less and less dependent on that said person. It's not a game, and you're certainly no prize. You're far from perfection, and it's something you realize. You want them to promise to love you forever, but even promises are broken. They tell you over and over again, but it's always coming undone. Was it something you did? Something you said? You'll never know, but what you will know, is that something, along the line, something went wrong. And you pray with everything that it fixes itself, but it never does. You lie in bed, awake, for the second night with no chance of sleeping, thinking it was all a mistake. If people never entered, they would never have to leave.... So you've decided to give up, never let people in so they could never leave, but you know you would go insane. Sometimes all you need is a hug and reassurance to know you're wanted, needed, or just... There. You're not useless, but it's how you feel. You realize getting hurt is inevitable, but you don't want to go through it again... No, not again. No, you don't want the abuse, the marks, the bruises, the pain. You don't want the death, for your past to repeat itself.... You don't want to leave. All you want, is to be told, "I love you" from the person that it matters most.
You try so hard.... to be beautiful for once. To make yourself look... confident. You look for a comment, but it never comes. Do you know why? It's simply because they don't notice you. They don't notice your efforts because you're not worth the time. Maybe, on the outside there's a strong smile, but inside you're screaming. Everyone needs someone a while. Some days you're angry. At yourself, at the world, at a specific other. But you just want to be recognized, you suppose.
When you try, nothing comes. It's what you're used to. What can you do to keep them? Keep them with you, make them stay. If you dressed differently, acted different. It keeps you up for days on end. You're used to everything that happens but.... You want to change some that does....
But no one is there to help you...
You don't know what you can do anymore. Are you even good enough? Or is it pity? You can't tell the difference. All you do, is think. Think about it and sigh. It's in people's heads, and that's all. It's never there. What can you think? What can you do? Is there anything? No. You're not good enough.. Never will be. Because... no one notices you. No one is there. They all left.
But some are there. Some.
Leave.
It's what people do best. Some may not realize that, but it happens. You don't consider the consequences, good or bad. You would walk away from someone that needed you, you would leave them alone... Again. Just as you found them in the first place.
When you're young, it happens, and when you're old, it happens. People of all shapes and sizes leave, different ethnicities, different everything. You can never be 100% sure unless you know someone, but even then you're scared. You're scared of being alone, being abandoned... You would rather hate instead of being alone because then at least you knew someone was thinking about you, even in a bad way.
Because you can Never truly know what's in store for you until you enter, unless you take the initiative to do something about your unhappiness, your fear. But yet.... We understand. We understand that you're hesitant to trust. How can you tell what’s real? Whether it’s love or just lust? We should make everyone stay, stay a little longer. Hold them a little longer, kiss them a little longer, need them a little longer. Because once someone is gone, maybe we start getting used to the idea of not having them, and we become less and less dependent on that said person. It's not a game, and you're certainly no prize. You're far from perfection, and it's something you realize. You want them to promise to love you forever, but even promises are broken. They tell you over and over again, but it's always coming undone. Was it something you did? Something you said? You'll never know, but what you will know, is that something, along the line, something went wrong. And you pray with everything that it fixes itself, but it never does. You lie in bed, awake, for the second night with no chance of sleeping, thinking it was all a mistake. If people never entered, they would never have to leave.... So you've decided to give up, never let people in so they could never leave, but you know you would go insane. Sometimes all you need is a hug and reassurance to know you're wanted, needed, or just... There. You're not useless, but it's how you feel. You realize getting hurt is inevitable, but you don't want to go through it again... No, not again. No, you don't want the abuse, the marks, the bruises, the pain. You don't want the death, for your past to repeat itself.... You don't want to leave. All you want, is to be told, "I love you" from the person that it matters most.
You try so hard.... to be beautiful for once. To make yourself look... confident. You look for a comment, but it never comes. Do you know why? It's simply because they don't notice you. They don't notice your efforts because you're not worth the time. Maybe, on the outside there's a strong smile, but inside you're screaming. Everyone needs someone a while. Some days you're angry. At yourself, at the world, at a specific other. But you just want to be recognized, you suppose.
When you try, nothing comes. It's what you're used to. What can you do to keep them? Keep them with you, make them stay. If you dressed differently, acted different. It keeps you up for days on end. You're used to everything that happens but.... You want to change some that does....
But no one is there to help you...
You don't know what you can do anymore. Are you even good enough? Or is it pity? You can't tell the difference. All you do, is think. Think about it and sigh. It's in people's heads, and that's all. It's never there. What can you think? What can you do? Is there anything? No. You're not good enough.. Never will be. Because... no one notices you. No one is there. They all left.
But some are there. Some.
Talk
People talk. They gossip, spread rumors, call each other out, bash or compliment. Sometimes things lead to bad results, or even good ones. The result can be a loss of a friend, or a relationship. Or even the loss of a relationship. Some people let others in their life because the pain or joy they feel is so great. People want to spread the joy, or receive help for their pain.
Sometimes when the pain is so great, we will let anyone be the doctor. And other times, you want no one to be the doctor. You don't want help. You just want to remain in your own sadness and think. You feel that no one can help rescue you and no one can do anything to help. It would just make it worse. So you let no one inside your head to help. You leave that to yourself. But your own self doubt and pity for yourself gets in the way of reasoning. You can't reason with yourself to be pulled from your sadness because you don't think you can be. Your mind wants you to stay in this state so you don't get hurt again. But you're not stupid, you know it might happen again if you're not careful.
But other times you take a leap from the norm and trust someone to help you. A small opening is shown to let just one person in, to test the waters. Will it actually work? You don't know until you start to spill everything that's been eating at you for a long time. You don't know if it's the right thing to do once you start, but you can't pull back now. They already know something's wrong. It would be so embarrassing if they spilled it to someone else. It would be horrible because you see that said person frequently. Or maybe you don't. You don't care because it feels good to let someone in finally, even if your brain is smart and screams at you not to. You never mind it and continue. You hope that they can do something to help, and they most likely can, even if they don't say much. Even if you drag them into something you didn't want to, you still want help. And they don't mind giving it.
But what deep wound ever healed without a scar? None. Everything leaves a mark on your heart, on your life. But it makes you stronger. I know it hurts, it's life, and it's real. It fucking hurts and it kills, but it's pretty much all we've got.Nothing anyone can say or do can take back what is done because it's already imprinted on your life. The scar will be there for the rest of your life and you'll look back on it years from now and remember the pain you went through. But you got through it successfully and you're still on the earth. You're still part of humanity and stronger than ever. You have risen above it all.
You can't always get what or who you want and it's something that you've come to realize. It's not fair, we know. But God only gives you the people you need in your life to hurt you, leave you and love you. He doesn't give you the people you want. Yes, you might miss the past, but it's not part of your present for a reason. A damn good one. You can't wait for everything to pass, you have to learn to deal with the pain and the problems and dance in the rain. Happiness doesn't necessarily need sunshine to be happiness. You can find it in the rain. Holding onto something or someone after they've left you can be unhealthy and ruin your present. It's why people learn to live and let die.
You'll know you've found people worth your while when you don't have to act happy when you're around them, it just happens. You know you've found someone that can help you when they make you feel better after talking to them when you've had a bad day. You'll just know. You always do. Even if it's not sudden or right away. Things in life take time. You learn that the hard way most of the time.
Life comes with no guarantee's, no.... second chances. Everyone tells you to live your life to the fullest because it's too short to be anything but happy. And it's true. You'll spend all this time upset and not realize how much time passes until you stop and take a look around. And you try to change what's been done. You fix your unhappiness and become happy for a change. You stop wallowing and shake it off. You drag yourself out of a deep hole that was dug for you. Never be afraid to smile until your face hurts or laugh until your stomach kills. Live in the moment you're in. Don't dwell on the past or think of the future. The people that love you most, that care about you, will stick with you for life. It doesn't matter how long you've known someone, it just matters who said "I'm here for you" and proved it.
And in the end, you always have someone like that. If it's under your nose or in front of your face. As Edward R. Murrow said, "The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer." And he's right. Everyone is so quick to look to the bad side of things, they can't see the good. "The human mind is inspired enough when it comes to inventing horrors; it is when it tries to invent a Heaven that it shows itself cloddish." as Evelyn Waugh puts it. But you can chose to do something. And eventually, you do. But remember, with each step forward, a piece of you is left behind. And a piece of you heals with time.
Sometimes when the pain is so great, we will let anyone be the doctor. And other times, you want no one to be the doctor. You don't want help. You just want to remain in your own sadness and think. You feel that no one can help rescue you and no one can do anything to help. It would just make it worse. So you let no one inside your head to help. You leave that to yourself. But your own self doubt and pity for yourself gets in the way of reasoning. You can't reason with yourself to be pulled from your sadness because you don't think you can be. Your mind wants you to stay in this state so you don't get hurt again. But you're not stupid, you know it might happen again if you're not careful.
But other times you take a leap from the norm and trust someone to help you. A small opening is shown to let just one person in, to test the waters. Will it actually work? You don't know until you start to spill everything that's been eating at you for a long time. You don't know if it's the right thing to do once you start, but you can't pull back now. They already know something's wrong. It would be so embarrassing if they spilled it to someone else. It would be horrible because you see that said person frequently. Or maybe you don't. You don't care because it feels good to let someone in finally, even if your brain is smart and screams at you not to. You never mind it and continue. You hope that they can do something to help, and they most likely can, even if they don't say much. Even if you drag them into something you didn't want to, you still want help. And they don't mind giving it.
But what deep wound ever healed without a scar? None. Everything leaves a mark on your heart, on your life. But it makes you stronger. I know it hurts, it's life, and it's real. It fucking hurts and it kills, but it's pretty much all we've got.Nothing anyone can say or do can take back what is done because it's already imprinted on your life. The scar will be there for the rest of your life and you'll look back on it years from now and remember the pain you went through. But you got through it successfully and you're still on the earth. You're still part of humanity and stronger than ever. You have risen above it all.
You can't always get what or who you want and it's something that you've come to realize. It's not fair, we know. But God only gives you the people you need in your life to hurt you, leave you and love you. He doesn't give you the people you want. Yes, you might miss the past, but it's not part of your present for a reason. A damn good one. You can't wait for everything to pass, you have to learn to deal with the pain and the problems and dance in the rain. Happiness doesn't necessarily need sunshine to be happiness. You can find it in the rain. Holding onto something or someone after they've left you can be unhealthy and ruin your present. It's why people learn to live and let die.
You'll know you've found people worth your while when you don't have to act happy when you're around them, it just happens. You know you've found someone that can help you when they make you feel better after talking to them when you've had a bad day. You'll just know. You always do. Even if it's not sudden or right away. Things in life take time. You learn that the hard way most of the time.
Life comes with no guarantee's, no.... second chances. Everyone tells you to live your life to the fullest because it's too short to be anything but happy. And it's true. You'll spend all this time upset and not realize how much time passes until you stop and take a look around. And you try to change what's been done. You fix your unhappiness and become happy for a change. You stop wallowing and shake it off. You drag yourself out of a deep hole that was dug for you. Never be afraid to smile until your face hurts or laugh until your stomach kills. Live in the moment you're in. Don't dwell on the past or think of the future. The people that love you most, that care about you, will stick with you for life. It doesn't matter how long you've known someone, it just matters who said "I'm here for you" and proved it.
And in the end, you always have someone like that. If it's under your nose or in front of your face. As Edward R. Murrow said, "The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer." And he's right. Everyone is so quick to look to the bad side of things, they can't see the good. "The human mind is inspired enough when it comes to inventing horrors; it is when it tries to invent a Heaven that it shows itself cloddish." as Evelyn Waugh puts it. But you can chose to do something. And eventually, you do. But remember, with each step forward, a piece of you is left behind. And a piece of you heals with time.
I tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is everything, do not be fooled by what I am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I am not saying. ~Charles C. Finn
Alice came to a fork in the road. "Which road do I take?" she asked.
"Where do you want to go?" responded the Cheshire cat.
"I don't know," Alice answered.
"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."
~Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Sorry
What do you call something that makes your heart beat so fast and then skips more than a few beats? Like a sprinter that tripped and fell. What do you call something that gives you a nervous pang that shoots from your heart, down your arm and up your thumb? What do you call something that gives your stomach so many butterflies, you have to apologize to it for them all? What do you call something that makes your knees weak each time their gaze meets yours?
And it makes you cry when you think about its end and that the feeling wasn't returned to you. But what do you suppose it was called? You knew it had a name for it, but you couldn't figure out what it was. Even after they made it painfully clear that it wasn't returned, you still felt it.
Even after the tears and the collapse to the ground.
If you could go back in time, you would do thing differently, trying to make them stay a little longer, or make the blow a little less painful to hear. You could have prepared yourself mentally, to soften the blow.
You can tell yourself that it was fine, and not their fault, but a part of you wants to know what the exact reason was. There was more to it. You always felt like they did deserve someone better, so if it made them happy, then you would act happy also. As much as you want to cry and let them know how hurt you were, you won't. You won't lead on that you just want to stay in bed all day, not do anything but think about what happened and think about the better times, even though your mind would replay that ending over and over again.
You knew that it was a part of life, and it's not going to be the last time, but you want it to be. They would still be there, you knew that, but it also made it worse. You would see them and remember what it was like to call them your own. But you had to act strong and like nothing happened so that they would never see you weak, and know how much they hurt you. How much they made you cry and collapse on the ground.
It would be a long road to recovery, but it was a road you had to take to start enjoying the things you did before. After everything you couldn't sleep, you lost your appetite, and you didn't enjoy anything that made you happy before. You looked at the things that were there: the pen and paper, the belt and uniform, the photo album.... and you felt nothing but sick.
But what could you do but let time pass and see where it took you? Even though every time you tried to take a breath you were already choking, and you tried to break something that was already broken.... Nothing helped. Time would heal the wounds, and it would leave a scar like everything else that hurt.
You would hold your head high after a few days, laugh it off and smile again. You would enjoy the things you used to in time, and forget about the day that it all ended. But you would never forget. You would keep it in the back of your mind in a box with all the amazing memories that time gave you. You'd only open that box in private just in case it gave you a point of weakness you didn't want anyone else to see.
In time only. In time.
Live and let live, or live and let die? Which one was it? You were angry, but you were sad. There was nothing you could do to change their feeling, and you wouldn't blame them. You couldn't.
The tears would still come and so would the knees that would give out each time the ending played in your mind. Every time, without fail. Every time you see them, it would be torture, but in time everything would be alright. The time would be a while and you knew that.
All you want to say, is "I'm sorry" because you were. You weren't special or "one-of-a-kind" and you wish you were.
A part of you wanted them to see you collapse on the ground in tears, but the other half wouldn't let you because it would make them fee worse, and you cared about them too much. You wanted them to be happy, even if it meant that you couldn't be with them.
And it makes you cry when you think about its end and that the feeling wasn't returned to you. But what do you suppose it was called? You knew it had a name for it, but you couldn't figure out what it was. Even after they made it painfully clear that it wasn't returned, you still felt it.
Even after the tears and the collapse to the ground.
If you could go back in time, you would do thing differently, trying to make them stay a little longer, or make the blow a little less painful to hear. You could have prepared yourself mentally, to soften the blow.
You can tell yourself that it was fine, and not their fault, but a part of you wants to know what the exact reason was. There was more to it. You always felt like they did deserve someone better, so if it made them happy, then you would act happy also. As much as you want to cry and let them know how hurt you were, you won't. You won't lead on that you just want to stay in bed all day, not do anything but think about what happened and think about the better times, even though your mind would replay that ending over and over again.
You knew that it was a part of life, and it's not going to be the last time, but you want it to be. They would still be there, you knew that, but it also made it worse. You would see them and remember what it was like to call them your own. But you had to act strong and like nothing happened so that they would never see you weak, and know how much they hurt you. How much they made you cry and collapse on the ground.
It would be a long road to recovery, but it was a road you had to take to start enjoying the things you did before. After everything you couldn't sleep, you lost your appetite, and you didn't enjoy anything that made you happy before. You looked at the things that were there: the pen and paper, the belt and uniform, the photo album.... and you felt nothing but sick.
But what could you do but let time pass and see where it took you? Even though every time you tried to take a breath you were already choking, and you tried to break something that was already broken.... Nothing helped. Time would heal the wounds, and it would leave a scar like everything else that hurt.
You would hold your head high after a few days, laugh it off and smile again. You would enjoy the things you used to in time, and forget about the day that it all ended. But you would never forget. You would keep it in the back of your mind in a box with all the amazing memories that time gave you. You'd only open that box in private just in case it gave you a point of weakness you didn't want anyone else to see.
In time only. In time.
Live and let live, or live and let die? Which one was it? You were angry, but you were sad. There was nothing you could do to change their feeling, and you wouldn't blame them. You couldn't.
The tears would still come and so would the knees that would give out each time the ending played in your mind. Every time, without fail. Every time you see them, it would be torture, but in time everything would be alright. The time would be a while and you knew that.
All you want to say, is "I'm sorry" because you were. You weren't special or "one-of-a-kind" and you wish you were.
A part of you wanted them to see you collapse on the ground in tears, but the other half wouldn't let you because it would make them fee worse, and you cared about them too much. You wanted them to be happy, even if it meant that you couldn't be with them.
What is it about death that brings a family closer? It looks like someone has to die in order to get a full family gathering. Instead of a birthday, or a reunion, or even something as simple as a graduation would normally bring everyone together, but not this time. Not this time around, it's happy. When you have over 40 people gathered in the same place, of the same family, for the same reason, it's never anything happy.
After everything that goes on during the duration of one day, there's never really any time to just sit down and take off your shoes. Between people visiting, the tears and all the sayings of, "I'm so sorry", and the dealing with the affairs, the final goodbyes and kisses, you never really have any time to just think.
Maybe it's a good thing. If you thought about anything, it would be in instant tear-trigger. Your eyes were red, puffy and sore from all the crying, and the sides of your nose looked like something from a paint can. Everyone was running around, down the streets, into cars, in and out of buildings and going everywhere but to a chair.
You didn't even have time to eat.
Whether it was your first experience with death or your seventh, it still hit you the same way. With a devastating blow to the chest. You could feel it in the pit of your heart, even though you tried your best to ignore it, and tried the best to keep yourself so busy with everything that you couldn't have time to listen to it, to feel it. But it's there. It's there waiting.
And when you finally do have the time to just sit... You don't know what to do. At a restaurant with mother and sister, you all talk of the memories that made you laugh, and the others that made you cringe. It didn't hit you hard because it was still waiting. It was waiting until you were alone.
When you entered the house it was quiet. It wasn't something you were used to. It was something that you would begin to hate. It was already something you hated. You half expected to see them as you walked in the door, but your heart knew that they weren't coming back. Having someone around you for the some-odd years that you've been alive, or the some-odd years you can remember and then walking around for just one day without them is odd.
During life, you're used to talking to someone's soul through their body. You begin to love them. You begin to love their soul, not their body. Their body is only the thing that carries their soul. It's nothing more than a place to be trapped inside until everything they needed to do was complete.
Their compulsive behaviors, their odd habits, and their sicknesses are all gone once they die because it was their body that held them. They would finally be free of everything that made them miserable, they would be free and peaceful, and happy.
That's something that you need to be happy for also. Even though you're sad and upset that they had to leave you before they got to witness everything that you were going to do, you were happy that they could be with their predeceased family once again.
If only they would have waited two or five years.... If only.... But then that means that they would have suffered more.
So it's something that you have to learn to let go. Yes, it will be a struggle, and yes, you will grieve for many months in the future, but if you know something, know this.... “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
After everything that goes on during the duration of one day, there's never really any time to just sit down and take off your shoes. Between people visiting, the tears and all the sayings of, "I'm so sorry", and the dealing with the affairs, the final goodbyes and kisses, you never really have any time to just think.
Maybe it's a good thing. If you thought about anything, it would be in instant tear-trigger. Your eyes were red, puffy and sore from all the crying, and the sides of your nose looked like something from a paint can. Everyone was running around, down the streets, into cars, in and out of buildings and going everywhere but to a chair.
You didn't even have time to eat.
Whether it was your first experience with death or your seventh, it still hit you the same way. With a devastating blow to the chest. You could feel it in the pit of your heart, even though you tried your best to ignore it, and tried the best to keep yourself so busy with everything that you couldn't have time to listen to it, to feel it. But it's there. It's there waiting.
And when you finally do have the time to just sit... You don't know what to do. At a restaurant with mother and sister, you all talk of the memories that made you laugh, and the others that made you cringe. It didn't hit you hard because it was still waiting. It was waiting until you were alone.
When you entered the house it was quiet. It wasn't something you were used to. It was something that you would begin to hate. It was already something you hated. You half expected to see them as you walked in the door, but your heart knew that they weren't coming back. Having someone around you for the some-odd years that you've been alive, or the some-odd years you can remember and then walking around for just one day without them is odd.
During life, you're used to talking to someone's soul through their body. You begin to love them. You begin to love their soul, not their body. Their body is only the thing that carries their soul. It's nothing more than a place to be trapped inside until everything they needed to do was complete.
Their compulsive behaviors, their odd habits, and their sicknesses are all gone once they die because it was their body that held them. They would finally be free of everything that made them miserable, they would be free and peaceful, and happy.
That's something that you need to be happy for also. Even though you're sad and upset that they had to leave you before they got to witness everything that you were going to do, you were happy that they could be with their predeceased family once again.
If only they would have waited two or five years.... If only.... But then that means that they would have suffered more.
So it's something that you have to learn to let go. Yes, it will be a struggle, and yes, you will grieve for many months in the future, but if you know something, know this.... “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
Remembrance (Memory Of You)
Remembrance of a person is a bit strange. All of the memories that are held in the brain are released as you recall an event with a person, a person that had been your friend, uncle, aunt, mother, father, whatever. They were someone to you.
Their body had always been with you. Everyday they were there, asleep or awake, waiting. You weren't sure what they were waiting for, but it was something and it was there. Everyday new memories were made and stored in the back of your mind. Whether it was pointless and dull, or upbeat and hilarious, the memories were the memories. They were little things that would forever link you to that person, a very little thing that was there and real.
It's true that you cannot reach out and physically touch the memory, but you didn't need to in order to remember how real it truly was. The laughs that were shared and the sorrows as well, they were all as visible as the wind. Only you knew it was there, only you could be the one to feel it.
And if you really payed attention in the darkest hour of the night, you could hear the prayers of the people left behind. The countless Hail Mary's and the prayers of Our Father In Heaven. During that hour all voices of your loved ones were heard. The used-to-be frail voice of a small woman was now the strong and enthusiastic voice of a young woman who was not sick anymore. And the voice of a disgruntled, gentle old man became the voice of a healthy and vibrant young man.
Their words were like a blanket to make sure everything was going to be alright during the night. The words were like a promise to say that nothing would hurt you as long as they were there with their prayers and their love.
Nothing of sorrow came. Only happiness and laughter rang in your ears during the silent night. The strange feeling of remembrance, the strange feeling of knowing that when you walked downstairs they were no longer there, the strange feeling of being alone at night overwhelmed you as you lied motionless.
Being alone in the night with no outside noise was strange. It was always there for your life, and now all of a sudden it was gone. Your knees were the only part of your body that were hugged the most now. Huddled up to your chest and tucked beneath your chin.
However, the memories helped. They were flowing into your mind behind your closed eyelids, filling you with the good times. It's what helped you get to sleep at night. But what would happen when the memories run out? Nothing. Because they would never, ever run out as long as you let don't them.
Alone in the dark you felt, but alone in the dark you were not.
The poster on my wall, the picture on my desk.
A couple of things that remind me of this mess.
Every night I fall asleep hoping for a better tomorrow
But all I get are bad memories, a day filled with sorrow.
I remember your soft touch,
The one I miss so much.
I remember your smile... your laugh
If only I could just take it back.
I just completely hate the day I had to say goodbye,
I just simply hate the day you had to die.
Their body had always been with you. Everyday they were there, asleep or awake, waiting. You weren't sure what they were waiting for, but it was something and it was there. Everyday new memories were made and stored in the back of your mind. Whether it was pointless and dull, or upbeat and hilarious, the memories were the memories. They were little things that would forever link you to that person, a very little thing that was there and real.
It's true that you cannot reach out and physically touch the memory, but you didn't need to in order to remember how real it truly was. The laughs that were shared and the sorrows as well, they were all as visible as the wind. Only you knew it was there, only you could be the one to feel it.
And if you really payed attention in the darkest hour of the night, you could hear the prayers of the people left behind. The countless Hail Mary's and the prayers of Our Father In Heaven. During that hour all voices of your loved ones were heard. The used-to-be frail voice of a small woman was now the strong and enthusiastic voice of a young woman who was not sick anymore. And the voice of a disgruntled, gentle old man became the voice of a healthy and vibrant young man.
Their words were like a blanket to make sure everything was going to be alright during the night. The words were like a promise to say that nothing would hurt you as long as they were there with their prayers and their love.
Nothing of sorrow came. Only happiness and laughter rang in your ears during the silent night. The strange feeling of remembrance, the strange feeling of knowing that when you walked downstairs they were no longer there, the strange feeling of being alone at night overwhelmed you as you lied motionless.
Being alone in the night with no outside noise was strange. It was always there for your life, and now all of a sudden it was gone. Your knees were the only part of your body that were hugged the most now. Huddled up to your chest and tucked beneath your chin.
However, the memories helped. They were flowing into your mind behind your closed eyelids, filling you with the good times. It's what helped you get to sleep at night. But what would happen when the memories run out? Nothing. Because they would never, ever run out as long as you let don't them.
Alone in the dark you felt, but alone in the dark you were not.
The poster on my wall, the picture on my desk.
A couple of things that remind me of this mess.
Every night I fall asleep hoping for a better tomorrow
But all I get are bad memories, a day filled with sorrow.
I remember your soft touch,
The one I miss so much.
I remember your smile... your laugh
If only I could just take it back.
I just completely hate the day I had to say goodbye,
I just simply hate the day you had to die.
Day 61 - The identity you think you are does not exist.
Day 61 - The identity you think you are does not exist.
Originally uploaded by ShatteredMartialArtist
Or - We give each person our own identity to make their lives more interesting than our own. Or more dull than what we like to believe our lives are. We make people into what we want them to be like a successful accountant or a low-life bum living off of welfare. We're so quick to judge a person by their outside appearance. As always, there is also the stereotypical identity we give each sex. Women are expected to be beautiful, thin, busty and graceful as portrayed by the media, and men are supposed to be "ripped", tan and basically a stud.
But these "identities" are false. No woman is perfectly thin and curvy and no man is the perfect guy to be in a relationship with. Most won't surprise you by randomly showing up at your house just to see you, and not all women can find their way around the bedposts. We all have that type of person pictured and built in our minds, waiting for them to show up, but fall for someone of lesser.
But never mind who the other people are - Who are you? Are you your own person, or who somebody molds you into? Look at yourself. Are you who you've wanted to be all along? Maybe you are not your own person. You've let media, family, significant others, and crushes shape you into a person you know you're not. And you've gone so far down this path that you don't even know where to begin to say no. You don't know what music you actually like, or what your personality really is. So what do you end up doing? You keep letting other people make the choices for you.
Even if you let yourself be controlled by you, what influences your choices? You may not follow the pop culture, but everything at one point was considered to be "pop culture". You could have decided which way in life you're going to go and what you want to portray yourself as... But are you afraid of what people might think? Of course you are. We all are. Some more afraid than others. It's why we conceal a certain part of us that we want no one to see. We hide the things that make us unique. We hide the artistic things we do, we hide the activities we enjoy.... We're afraid of people's criticism. Maybe no consciously, but we are. Every one of us. Until we learn to say "Hey - fuck you" which can take the most confident people years.
Yes, you think you have an identity, but look at yourself. Who do you represent? Yourself, what you believe, or who someone else wants you to be? That you have to decide for yourself. As someone once said: "The identity you think you are does not exist." So what does that tell you? You do not exist? It's possible.
What are we really? Things that take up space, or things that have a purpose? Meaningless beings doing more harm than good, or individual people with individual causes?
Will we ever know what we are? Or will everyone just continue to ask the question: What/Who. Are. We?
Friday the thirteenth
So yes, for the second month in a row, it is Friday the thirteenth. My mother was diagnosed with cancer on Friday the thirteenth... Anyway.
So last night at about midnight... A boy asked me to be his girlfriend. It wasn't just a random boy, but the boy I met a while ago. I'll call him by his initials DV. We were talking for a while via texting and we were making fun of each other. I have him a "='(" smiley face thingy and he said he knew what would cheer me up. When I asked what, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I told him that maybe we should go on a date before we are official, just to test the waters and make sure we aren't rushing into anything. He agreed to that. So now we're trying to set up a date to hang out.
In a way, I want to wait for "Dan"... But in another way, I want to date DV...
We were going to do something tomorrow, but he works 8-4 and I have a "family reunion" type thing tomorrow. It's the celebration of my grandmother's birthday but we use it as a family reunion as well. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but they're crazy. (As Christopher Titus would say;) Not crazy as in; "My family is CRAZY!" Crazy as in; "We the jury find the defendant". So this should be interesting. We usually get together at The Marriott, but I think they were getting tired of my HUGE family, so this year it's at the Holiday Inn. We always gather round the pool and swim for a few hours, then eat, then go home.
This year I'm bringing a couple books and notebooks to write and read. Oh, with my music. But beforehand I'm going to karate, so that should be interesting. I'm going to bring my camera as well... Knowing my uncles, it'll get damaged, and they'll replace it -.- They had better not hurt Joshua.
I had to stay after today with my history teacher ^^ I had to make up a quiz and got ONE wrong!!!! League of nations and United Nations are the same thing!!!!... Okay, not really, BUT HE KNEW WHAT I MEANT! Haha. Bastard! ^^ No, I love my teacher. He's amazing. His college buddy called him while he was grading my quiz. It was actually funny and entertaining. Something about a horror movie? Well anyway. We had some good laughs, him accusing me of cheating, me joking about telling on him to the principle to get him fired, haha. I would never get him fired. He's too cool (and good looking).
It was worth staying after for.
And then I had prep seventh period with DV which was fun. I saw some... nice photos :D That's all I'm going to say.
I will not be labeled as average. -Rachel Scott
So last night at about midnight... A boy asked me to be his girlfriend. It wasn't just a random boy, but the boy I met a while ago. I'll call him by his initials DV. We were talking for a while via texting and we were making fun of each other. I have him a "='(" smiley face thingy and he said he knew what would cheer me up. When I asked what, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I told him that maybe we should go on a date before we are official, just to test the waters and make sure we aren't rushing into anything. He agreed to that. So now we're trying to set up a date to hang out.
In a way, I want to wait for "Dan"... But in another way, I want to date DV...
We were going to do something tomorrow, but he works 8-4 and I have a "family reunion" type thing tomorrow. It's the celebration of my grandmother's birthday but we use it as a family reunion as well. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but they're crazy. (As Christopher Titus would say;) Not crazy as in; "My family is CRAZY!" Crazy as in; "We the jury find the defendant". So this should be interesting. We usually get together at The Marriott, but I think they were getting tired of my HUGE family, so this year it's at the Holiday Inn. We always gather round the pool and swim for a few hours, then eat, then go home.
This year I'm bringing a couple books and notebooks to write and read. Oh, with my music. But beforehand I'm going to karate, so that should be interesting. I'm going to bring my camera as well... Knowing my uncles, it'll get damaged, and they'll replace it -.- They had better not hurt Joshua.
I had to stay after today with my history teacher ^^ I had to make up a quiz and got ONE wrong!!!! League of nations and United Nations are the same thing!!!!... Okay, not really, BUT HE KNEW WHAT I MEANT! Haha. Bastard! ^^ No, I love my teacher. He's amazing. His college buddy called him while he was grading my quiz. It was actually funny and entertaining. Something about a horror movie? Well anyway. We had some good laughs, him accusing me of cheating, me joking about telling on him to the principle to get him fired, haha. I would never get him fired. He's too cool (and good looking).
It was worth staying after for.
And then I had prep seventh period with DV which was fun. I saw some... nice photos :D That's all I'm going to say.
I will not be labeled as average. -Rachel Scott
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Five Months
So, I'm new to this whole... online blogging stuff. I usually do it on flickr, but I feel like my descriptions get too long sometimes, haha. So, I'll give this a try.
Today is March 12, 2009. On October 12, 2008, my great aunt died. It's hard to think that she's been gone for five months today. It's also kinda weird... She was someone that was there for me everyday of my life from the moment I was born. For fifteen years she was there for me, and for my mother, her whole life as well. She had helped with my brother and sisters for the longest time to make the load on my parents easier. I mean, she was one of those people that were cut-throat about their religion. She tried so hard to make us go to church and pray everyday, haha. It did get on our nerves, but she was an old lady (By the way, my mother's side of the family is Roman Catholic, and my father is Jewish. Story for another day).
We all had those days where we were a bit... short with her, but she was always nagging us about the smallest things. Pens, and water and everything in between. But now that she's gone, I miss it. I wish I would wake up to her asking how cold it was outside and come home to ask if I saw "Bob" ("Bob" is my ex's codename. You know, anonymity and such). Or whenever I went to karate, she'd ask the same thing; "Will you see 'Bob' there?" I would always sigh and groan, saying I didn't know.
But she was always very... enthusiastic. She loved anyone that walked in the door. You could break in with a plan to kill every single person in our home, but she would just sit there and talk. She would love them and say; "I'll pray for you". And she always did. I miss that.
She was devoted to her religion, like I am devoted to my karate. Haha, Ah-Ah loved that I was in karate. She would always ask how it went, how I did, if I had a test, etc. It was like, "Ah-Ah, I'm a Shodan. I don't test for another two years." Well, back then I was a Shodan. I wish she could see me now. Physically, see me.
She was less than a month away from seeing me run home with a brand new rank in hand. She was less than a month away from finally getting an answer to; "How did the test go?" But unfortunately, she just couldn't hold on for that much longer. It was hard to see her go because the immediate family had to watch her slowly deteriorate in front of our eyes. It wasn't easy.
One Sunday after "Sunday Dinner", she was watching the God Channel (that's what we all call it) when my mother walked in after dropping off Grandma and my Aunt. She looked at my mother and said, "Oh, by the way... I'm dying October 14th." My mother just looked at her crooked and asked what she meant. Ah-Ah explained that "they" came down and told her. Apparently if people pray everyday and fufill their daily obligations, an Angel will tell them a week before they die.
My mother just brushed it off and laughed.
On Tuesday, my aunt went into such a bad respiratory distress, we thought she was going to die right then and there. But she didn't. My mother being a nurse helped her and calmed her down before going back to bed, cautiously. Wednesday my aunt got worse. The didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Well, barely. She still hobbled her way into the bathroom a few last times. Thursday she was completely bed-ridden and almost completely inable to speak or do anything but sleep. She was always tired. We all stood by her side and made her comfortable in her death bed (quite literally. Hospice delivered a bed for her), telling her things. Earlier that day I called my ex boyfriend. I called him because he knew my aunt, and how much love she had to give. I thought that he would have cared about me and how much I was hurting, but he didn't. He broke the promise he made the day he broke my heart. "I'll always care about you. Just call and I'll be there." Want to know what he told me?
"You don't seem upset."
What you have to understand is that my mother raised us very well. But she's an Irish woman that doesn't show her emotions. And those lessons that her mother taught her, she passed onto us. I have only seen my mother cry twice, in my entire life. So I hide my emotions and don't let anyone see me hurt. It's a lesson hard forgotten, it's something I am used to.
Also, when my sister went to work that night, she went over to my aunt to say goodbye. My older sister bent down to kiss her goodbye and say that she would be back soon, when my aunt lifted her arms to hug her. She tried her hardest to say I love you, but the words just couldn't form and come out of her throat. She tried to hard, but she couldn't say it. God, it killed me.
And by Friday, she didn't do anything but breathe. We stayed home from our father's that weekend. We all held her hand by her bedside for a while. My neighbor came over to lift our spirits and play some blackjack for a while. It lasted somewhat long...
To whomever is reading this: My aunt died at exactly 9am when mass ended on Saturday, October 12, 2008. That was the second time I had ever heard or saw my mother cry. She had told me not an hour before that she was going to get coffee for herself when I was still in bed. She didn't want to leave my aunt's side. But she went, and I couldn't get myself out of bed long enough to sit with her. I'm so selfish. I should have gotten my lazy ass out of bed to sit with her and tell her everything I wanted to before she left me. But I didn't. I slept.
At 9am, my mother ran up the stairs, crying her eyes out and flinging open the doors to our bedrooms. She choked out that Ah-Ah was dead, tears pouring down her pale cheeks... I ran downstairs ahead of my little sister, but behind my older... And I saw my aunt... Lying there... On that bed... Dead.
Have you ever had to see that, my friend? It's something I would not wish upon my worst enemy. It was weird. My first real dead body and I flipped. I burst into tears and went into denial like most people would. I ran out the door after saying some prayers and kissing her goodbye. I didn't want to be there when she was pronnounced. I ran down to the only place I knew.... Karate. My instructor saw how much of a mess I was and just stopped. The kids kept going. Even though I am an instructor as well as a student at karate... They still kind of... Didn't want to see me a mess. So they didn't.
I stayed around karate until the end of weapons class and just cried.
It's been five months since that week and day... And I still haven't gotten over it. She was closer to me than anyone ever was before. In a way I wish she hadn't died and I would still have her, but in another, I'm glad she's gone. I say that because... She's rid of all her sickness and compulsive behavior... But I need her.
I saw her in some dreams of mine and I woke up crying. I want to see her again, hold her, kiss her, love her. Physically. But we still remember her. Her funny memories and ridiculous things she did... Everyday.
Today is March 12, 2009. On October 12, 2008, my great aunt died. It's hard to think that she's been gone for five months today. It's also kinda weird... She was someone that was there for me everyday of my life from the moment I was born. For fifteen years she was there for me, and for my mother, her whole life as well. She had helped with my brother and sisters for the longest time to make the load on my parents easier. I mean, she was one of those people that were cut-throat about their religion. She tried so hard to make us go to church and pray everyday, haha. It did get on our nerves, but she was an old lady (By the way, my mother's side of the family is Roman Catholic, and my father is Jewish. Story for another day).
We all had those days where we were a bit... short with her, but she was always nagging us about the smallest things. Pens, and water and everything in between. But now that she's gone, I miss it. I wish I would wake up to her asking how cold it was outside and come home to ask if I saw "Bob" ("Bob" is my ex's codename. You know, anonymity and such). Or whenever I went to karate, she'd ask the same thing; "Will you see 'Bob' there?" I would always sigh and groan, saying I didn't know.
But she was always very... enthusiastic. She loved anyone that walked in the door. You could break in with a plan to kill every single person in our home, but she would just sit there and talk. She would love them and say; "I'll pray for you". And she always did. I miss that.
She was devoted to her religion, like I am devoted to my karate. Haha, Ah-Ah loved that I was in karate. She would always ask how it went, how I did, if I had a test, etc. It was like, "Ah-Ah, I'm a Shodan. I don't test for another two years." Well, back then I was a Shodan. I wish she could see me now. Physically, see me.
She was less than a month away from seeing me run home with a brand new rank in hand. She was less than a month away from finally getting an answer to; "How did the test go?" But unfortunately, she just couldn't hold on for that much longer. It was hard to see her go because the immediate family had to watch her slowly deteriorate in front of our eyes. It wasn't easy.
One Sunday after "Sunday Dinner", she was watching the God Channel (that's what we all call it) when my mother walked in after dropping off Grandma and my Aunt. She looked at my mother and said, "Oh, by the way... I'm dying October 14th." My mother just looked at her crooked and asked what she meant. Ah-Ah explained that "they" came down and told her. Apparently if people pray everyday and fufill their daily obligations, an Angel will tell them a week before they die.
My mother just brushed it off and laughed.
On Tuesday, my aunt went into such a bad respiratory distress, we thought she was going to die right then and there. But she didn't. My mother being a nurse helped her and calmed her down before going back to bed, cautiously. Wednesday my aunt got worse. The didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Well, barely. She still hobbled her way into the bathroom a few last times. Thursday she was completely bed-ridden and almost completely inable to speak or do anything but sleep. She was always tired. We all stood by her side and made her comfortable in her death bed (quite literally. Hospice delivered a bed for her), telling her things. Earlier that day I called my ex boyfriend. I called him because he knew my aunt, and how much love she had to give. I thought that he would have cared about me and how much I was hurting, but he didn't. He broke the promise he made the day he broke my heart. "I'll always care about you. Just call and I'll be there." Want to know what he told me?
"You don't seem upset."
What you have to understand is that my mother raised us very well. But she's an Irish woman that doesn't show her emotions. And those lessons that her mother taught her, she passed onto us. I have only seen my mother cry twice, in my entire life. So I hide my emotions and don't let anyone see me hurt. It's a lesson hard forgotten, it's something I am used to.
Also, when my sister went to work that night, she went over to my aunt to say goodbye. My older sister bent down to kiss her goodbye and say that she would be back soon, when my aunt lifted her arms to hug her. She tried her hardest to say I love you, but the words just couldn't form and come out of her throat. She tried to hard, but she couldn't say it. God, it killed me.
And by Friday, she didn't do anything but breathe. We stayed home from our father's that weekend. We all held her hand by her bedside for a while. My neighbor came over to lift our spirits and play some blackjack for a while. It lasted somewhat long...
To whomever is reading this: My aunt died at exactly 9am when mass ended on Saturday, October 12, 2008. That was the second time I had ever heard or saw my mother cry. She had told me not an hour before that she was going to get coffee for herself when I was still in bed. She didn't want to leave my aunt's side. But she went, and I couldn't get myself out of bed long enough to sit with her. I'm so selfish. I should have gotten my lazy ass out of bed to sit with her and tell her everything I wanted to before she left me. But I didn't. I slept.
At 9am, my mother ran up the stairs, crying her eyes out and flinging open the doors to our bedrooms. She choked out that Ah-Ah was dead, tears pouring down her pale cheeks... I ran downstairs ahead of my little sister, but behind my older... And I saw my aunt... Lying there... On that bed... Dead.
Have you ever had to see that, my friend? It's something I would not wish upon my worst enemy. It was weird. My first real dead body and I flipped. I burst into tears and went into denial like most people would. I ran out the door after saying some prayers and kissing her goodbye. I didn't want to be there when she was pronnounced. I ran down to the only place I knew.... Karate. My instructor saw how much of a mess I was and just stopped. The kids kept going. Even though I am an instructor as well as a student at karate... They still kind of... Didn't want to see me a mess. So they didn't.
I stayed around karate until the end of weapons class and just cried.
It's been five months since that week and day... And I still haven't gotten over it. She was closer to me than anyone ever was before. In a way I wish she hadn't died and I would still have her, but in another, I'm glad she's gone. I say that because... She's rid of all her sickness and compulsive behavior... But I need her.
I saw her in some dreams of mine and I woke up crying. I want to see her again, hold her, kiss her, love her. Physically. But we still remember her. Her funny memories and ridiculous things she did... Everyday.
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