The depth of our grief is simply the price that we pay for the extent of our love...
I've been trying to find the strength to get back into writing. It's hard when I'm too focused on my grief though I know it's probably better to just let it all out through journaling. Compared to how I was when I wrote my post last week, I guess I'm feeling a bit better now. I still grieve but my tears have subsided a bit. It would have been easier to degenerate into hell and punish myself until my dying day. I guess there's still a bit of self forgiveness in me. So I didn't stop what I was doing. I think my clockwork routine has helped me towards healing. I tried to find some time to grieve and then somehow make my self believe that life still goes on.
Imagine the shock knowing that you won't be able to talk to your best friend anymore, it's like someone stabbed you straight to your heart right there and then. Just intense pain in the chest. I don't cry as much now but of course I am still very very sad. And overwhelmed with guilt and confusion.
I had two people in my life who passed without any proper closure. No forgiveness. What does it say about me now? That I am simply just a horrible person overall. So you must understand how incredibly hard it is to forgive myself. And for not being the most forgiving person on earth and for allowing things to come to an abrupt end without saying anything. For not saying how much I truly love them. For not loving them enough. Just like one of my followers here said, death is so final.
Death is so final, there's no redemption. There's no undo button in there. There's no chance to make it up and express forgiveness. The intention doesn't matter because I'm so deluded to believe that there is time. There is no time. That was my one and only chance. And I failed. And again.
I'm always a little bit too late. I acted as if people will always be there. Death is so mysterious and it sucks not being able to know what's going on with their souls at the moment. It sucks not knowing.
I love and hate being a mere mortal human because my capacity to understand is so limited. It feels like we just live to torture ourselves for not knowing so much. It feels like we just exist so we can die in the end. And that's it. All the beauty of human relationships and all the feelings that come with it ended just like that. What is everything for?
I'm afraid that I've slept so long, been alone for so long that I'm actually dead inside. This was my friend's last words during our final argument. It is hard not to think about this over and over. I thought we had that typical toxic codependency relationship that I had been meaning to end for my own benefit. I actually don't know what is what anymore. I don't know what's the best especially if you have societies telling you about pushing toxicity away and then being there for people. There's the self-centric and the people centric. It can be all confusing to have everything ideal fed into your head.
I was an island for so long that I didn't need anyone else in my life. But I needed him so we talked everyday and we fought and argued too much especially during his last days. I couldn't make decisions anymore without asking for his approval. I deemed the rest not as worthy of friendship. So I stopped meeting new people. Meanwhile, my friend had invested in a lot of friends who loved him so much until his death. The only thing I'm grateful for is that they were there for him. And that he was not like me.
I guess my friend's death made me realize to finally change anything that I need to change in me. And to be more understanding and compassionate of what other people are going through and why they behave in a certain way towards us. I do not want to be dead inside I want to feel. I don't want to keep on pushing people away. I've become too SELF centric that I've forgotten I actually need people. We simply just can't do this on our own.
We should forgive, give and receive love while we still can... because there is no time left.
