It’s extraordinary how the simplest of possessions of someone who has been left become so quickly sordid. Even the stain on the coffee cup seems not coffee but the physical manifestation of one’s inner stain, the fatal blot that from the beginning had marked one for ultimate loneliness.
It's barely halfway through 2011 and I have been dealt with sour cards from the dealer of life. I've lost 3 people close to my heart; one left because of my debilitating disease, one who I tenderly call my sister left because of my selfish ways, and the third one went home to God in a tragic freak accident.
It seems that I am incapable of keeping people by my side. It seems that I am incapable of any good at all to the ones I love, that one by one, they all leave. I have become a broken image, disfigured by the pain I have inflicted upon myself, of words I shouldn't have said and time I should have cherished. I know grief is a bad door we all have to walk through in life, but I'd never expected such an intense surge of anguish. I felt pain in a whole new way like I've never felt before.
I wish for something to rescue me from all of this. Humans are grey of soul and fated to selfish ends. Everybody cares about their own happiness. I understand that. Sometimes loving means letting go... But really, do I have to let her go?
I deactivated my Facebook account because it pains me so much whenever one of them updates. Or my fingers, itched to view their profile, to find out they're doing perfectly well without me. It aches, oh it hurts so much to know that they don't need me in their lives. That they're fucking happy without me. It hurts to see the messages they leave for you. It hurts to see how we're no longer siblings. It hurts to see you in new ventures, new pictures. Everything is a blinding ball of pain.
Maybe I should listen to my mom and go home, take a break, in the loving arms of my family...
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