Don't really know how I really feel about hearing of the death of a loved one. Like, I would love to cry/weep/somber on about the terrible news of it all but for some reason, I feel more angered than saddened by it. I feel a rage building up, a frustration of guilt, a jealous-heavy mindset, a twisted example of forgotten memories. When she told me what is inevitably going to happen to her, I lost it. I lost that humanity in me, that burning desire to keep on with whatever I got left. Why she told me is beyond my meaning of explanation but she did it....without remorse or even a slight hesitation. It was as if she felt as if I needed to hear this rather than want.
She always did have a knack for coping with things. More calm when faced with impossible odds, even more that my slight neurotic behaviors. A clearer conscious on the future rather than a cluttered traffic of just bad memories and even more worse clarifications. I felt as if my mind was a babbling infant, attempting to cope or even relate to the news of her illness.
It was the first and only time I have ever seen this woman cry so I guess it was serious. Doubts? Of course I have them. I doubted that I won't be able to live with her final moments, her final wishes for the future, her final words to me. Separation was never a good thing for me, even more so when it came to her. A void in my soul, a lingering yearning to be near her again. Never lust, never an obsession, but a purpose. That purpose will now never be fulfilled as I have an even shorter time-frame to serve said purpose. 9 weeks....9 whole weeks of regret and anger and rage and pent up negativity that I have to deal with because it is beyond my control.
I guess this timing is what was in the cards. Guess it had to have come to this as recent memories and forgotten lives began to spring back up into my mind. Where she lay dying against what she could always remember, I stand awake with my crippled focus on my past, present and future.
.......typical
