Mourning Meltdown

“When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Somebody should notice. Somebody should be upset.”
–Cameron, “Acceptance” Season 2, Episode 1 of House

I feel the impact. I notice. And, yes, I get upset.

I’ve banned myself from watching medical TV shows, not even the funny ones, to avoid finding scenes and lines that will hit me hard where my wounds haven’t healed. Still, the exact thing I was running away from found me.

It’s a tricky thing losing someone you love. One minute you feel fine, the next minute it’s hell. You constantly fear how misery can easily swallow you any minute. And despite how you put up a positive attitude about your loss, your life just turn into a sort of a ticking clock, waiting for the best time to explode, to unleash pure unadulterated grief.

Believe it or not, I’m not for it. The mess that is misery. Because if you think about it, once you succumb to it, there may be no coming back.

Plus, feeling sad and angry would be selfish.

But I guess, people like me are entitled to selfishness every now and then. Selfishness displayed when the presence of the loved one who passed away is badly missed, when what-used-to-be-is-a-special-day becomes empty, when making new memories is frustratingly impossible, when bitter lines have to be dropped—lines pertaining to death and how it sucks.

May 12 is a special day. Nichi’s turning 14. He may be taller than me. And his voice may be lower.

I could only speculate how things may be.

I have a long way to go to reach “acceptance”. And I sure do agree the road I’d trudge to get there would definitely be rough. This one you see here is a phase.