GOODBYES are hard, but have you ever had to bury people who are important to you? That is death for you, folks. It comes to take what has been yours for years, ruin the home you live in, and leave you to clean up the broken pieces of glass.
No matter how trivial one’s presence may be to you, to hear of their death changes everything. You have to constantly remind yourself to keep the memories alive because there’s no body to project emotions on to — the anger, sadness, regret, melancholy, nostalgia, happiness that was once was.
In spite of all that, you can’t be either too sad because then the dead can’t cross over peacefully if you don’t let go or too silent because that would mean you didn’t love them as much as people assumed you did. Being neither of those two would be outrageous: did their presence mean nothing to you at all, especially now that they’re gone forever?
That is one of society’s most cursed characteristics: People would act like they respected you and your life until you are at your lowest because when that happens, they can show their pity or present themselves as empathetic to those watching. They try to legitimize their own self-worth by utilizing others. What a classic.
When you have two younger siblings crying their hearts out at their parents’ graves, you don’t have much of a choice but to stand tall and firm while you rub their backs to console them. In hopes that your small and subtle touch would help them heal a little faster. At least, that’s the decision I took. Because I didn’t have it in myself to do otherwise. I didn’t curse them for leaving so abruptly, wishing they were still alive.
That day, just like the way I buried my parents, they buried with them the person I had been.
All that’s left was the person I was and could be from that day on. Now, that girl could go anywhere, do anything, and still be able to raise her siblings just the same. She’d be able to make a home out of a place so far away from their bones that they’d miss her more than she did miss them.
Because that’s what death does to those left behind. It reminds you of who deserves your love and tears.
When the world is still offering so much time to you, mourning the death and grieving the loss can only last so little. There’s more to life than what you’ve lost. It’s not your fault they didn’t appreciate what you gave them and how they could’ve been better for you.
That just means they weren’t supposed to stay inside your home. I wouldn’t waste my time on those kind of people. They’re the same type of people that turn into their own worst fears when they have the choice to bury you so that they don’t receive the blame.
You can trust me on this one. I had to waltz through the army of ghosts my parents left me in.
Sincerely, Levinia Althea
