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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2197995-I--AM--SO--TIRED
Rated: E · Essay · Philosophy · #2197995
Death is inevitable. Acceptance? Or denial? This is a journey to the edge of the abyss.
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' Today my world is dark
the sun gives light but it does not shine
music gives sound but it does not sing
the water has no sweetness
the food has no taste
i can touch and yet i feel nothing
something has been taken from me
and i don't know how to get it back
Is this what it means to die?
i'm so tired '


~ ki ~





I AM SO TIRED


I am so tired of being tired. Exhaustion is but a pleasant memory. I am so much past just that. The feelings are not going away. I guess it's my own fault. I don't want them to. I keep reliving our memories, and for a moment, it is like you are just around the corner, in the next room, and you will come into view and my world will become whole once again. And then the pain surges back with a fury, relentless and undeniable. It is an unbearable feeling. I may never see you again. My world is not only in chaos, there is devastation. There is nothing that I can do, there is nothing someone else can say, to make the pain go away.

I am already tired of hearing that we shall meet again, in another place, at another time. I would like to believe that. I really want to believe that. But it is just a theory, a guess, a hope, a wish. I am not really big on faith. I wish I had some now. It might bring some comfort to know that we will meet again somewhere in eternity, but that is not what I need. I don't want to see you in a year. I don't want to see you Tomorrow, for obvious reasons. I want to see you Today. Right now. Nothing else will relieve the void in which I now reside.

Never will your personal philosophy be stretched to its limits more than when you are forced to face reality, and there is no reality of more consequence than death. All the thinking, all the analysis, all the contemplation about the universe and your place within it. All set up in a nice tidy package. All of your cherished beliefs, and your hopes and expectations of exactly who you are and what you should do when confronted with destiny. You thought you were a block of granite, a raw diamond, confident and impervious to the existence all around you. But then you find that you possess feet of clay, or worse yet, are simply a wisp of smoke, lost and confused, bewildered and hurting like you never thought possible.

I now live with our memories, and I will cherish the memories saved from such a short lifetime together, but they are a poor substitute for the ability to actually see you, to smell the aroma of your presence, to hear the music of your voice. A memory is but a snapshot of the past. My expectation was to create a million more in the future. With you. Now that is only a dream that will forever remain unrealized. And the pain returns. It is relentless. I live in the memories because that is now all I have of you. The anguish is crushing. But the joy is exhilarating. I can't let it go. I do not want to let it go. I am afraid that I will lose the memories. That they will fade with time. It is inevitable. The thought of you will remain. Of that I am confident. But the rest? Time will erase the intensity. I wish I could stop that.

So I sit here and wallow in my sorrow, enduring the blinding pain to experience your existence and revel in a life, and a love shared. My mind is working tirelessly as I speak, trying to bring structure to the chaos that was my well-defined philosophy. I expect, and hope, that it will be successful in time, and possibly stronger than it was. Unfortunately, my heart refuses to let you go, and it will be a while before it accepts the reality of death. And my soul? She is as calm and patient as the day is long, and understands the pain. She attempts to comfort and absorb what she can. For her, this is an opportunity to teach, about things such as acceptance and empathy, and to explain, even though it is next to impossible at the moment. To help in growth and understanding. That's what she does. She is very good at it. And she loves. There is always a little extra love hanging around for an emergency.


And the pain continues.
I still cannot let it go. It hurts like hell.
I am so very tired.









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