Acceptance

Accepting the death of a loved one; something I am incapable of.

Maybe by the end of this post I’ll have accepted the loss of someone I loved deeply. Someone I lost a few years back.

I’m pretty hesitant as I write this because I know I’ll have to be more honest with myself and with you than I genuinely want to be. But I tell those I care about that I’m there for them, those that know about this blog know that they never have to hide anything from me. Those that read this, to them I am an open book. They see the reality behind the mask I wear.

I’ve been there for a couple people who understand the impact of death as much as I do, and one thing I’ve understood is…I am weak when it comes to acceptance.

I personally don’t really believe in an afterlife, so for me death is as absolute as it is instantaneous. But I tell those that I love that they should believe, that if they believe in a heaven them their loved ones will ascend, because it is true.

When one dies people say it’s for the best, and in some cases it is, but one thing people forget is no one really dies. They instantly lose their physical presence in this planet, but as long as they remain in our minds…one isn’t dead, they are lost but alive.

What about me?

What about those of us who just can’t accept?

What about those of us who just can’t talk to a person and end up crushing keys trying to open up?

I personally don’t really agree to the fact that my uncle is dead, I just think  he’s gone for a while. But the fact that I consciously lie to myself really fucks me up, the fact that I know deep down that every day I forget him a little more. Not because I don’t love him, but because I only spent a total of a couple hundred days with him, not years.

The fact that his death wasn’t for the best, that he isn’t gong to someone he loves, cause all of them are right here. Without him. He’s gone, he had a good life here. A short one. His parents still alive, his children left fatherless, his siblings left brotherless, and I left uncleless. I miss him so fucking much.

My memories of him are the kind that humorously violent… I remember being whooped by a badminton racket, I remember being bottle fed baby lotion, I remember being slapped countless times I reached for dice when it wasn’t my turn while we played Ludo.

All that remains are memories, but for me he’s just gone for vacation. So hey… I’ll see him soon right. Wrong. I know that I never will, I know that on the off chance that there is a heaven I won’t be there.

So fuck right… What will I do when I lose more loved ones… to time, to disease, to stupidity… to not caring enough to text first.

I’m as lost as those that have died, except I remain in a silhouette filled with misery, regrets and unbearable urge to just be lost in the ultimate abyss.

I find joy in being there for my friends. It gives me a purpose that feeds another but myself.

x-x

Now that I just finished this post… to be honest… I think I just accepted it, I really need someone right now, someone to call me and ask me if I’m okay. Frankly I’m tired of staring at the back-light of my phone reading words in conversations I can’t feel any humanity in. I need someones voice.