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decreaseIt's a hell of a thing to say you killed someone.
You haven't shot anyone in anger or defence, you haven't had a fatal car accident, you're not a combat soldier. You haven't stabbed anyone or pushed anyone of the 15th floor of your apartment nor have you hit anyone. On the contrary, you loved that person, you wanted to watch that person grow old.
The pain and the anguish comes from the fact that that person still lives, breathes, eats, but now they live and breathe without hope. The hope that many of us have, 'living to a ripe old age'
The cessation of a life, that once had been bright, gay, fun filled, that is the tragedy.
The killing of the spirit, of the life in the body, in the mind, is a weight at times, so unbearable.
The voracity, charm, personality and even the roses in the cheeks have now gone. The vitality of the person strangled, the laughs silent, the smile, forced.
Plunged into a deep, dark ravine. The person is now hidden, or at least repressed by the cloak of uncertainty, afraid to resurface, for fear, for guilt.
For what?
There is always uncertainty in our lives, there is always fear, but at the same time there is always 'hope'. "Hope springs eternal'
But when that person loses hope, feels hopeless, what can one do?
The person does not have to become reclusive, yet so many of them do. Invariably people do crawl into their shell.
This is a life shattered. Shattered beyond repair. This person will never again rejoice and sing the praises of being alive. The carefree spirit, darting to the bright lights and enjoying laughy, chatty people is no longer there. The smile and grace that lit up rooms is now gone. Forever?
It's a hell of a thing.
It's particularly painful to me as I sit here, as I remember the beginning. The laugh, the introduction, the smile, the eye contact. It is still in my mind as clear as it happened yesterday.
That's how much of an impression I got.
Gorgeous.
So refreshing, so uplifting. This is indeed a spark that can relight fires, can reignite passions, can soothe damaged souls and minds.
Now, I hear the crying, the sorrow, the helplessness in the voice. The despair. The struggle to keep going. The spark is gone, the fire doused.
A person flash and flush. The hair, the clothes, the accessories and eventually the car were all on show. This was a person on top of their game. The big wave of December 24, 2004 paused the game.
We are young... maybe not bulletproof anymore, but young enough to find our way, to find a direction we would like to follow. They studied more, they exercised till their bodies were firm and trim, they got on with their lives and they flourished. The friends, the laughs, the nights out, the study trips continued as before. The situation was not helpless.
A good job, a vest for life, exotically sexy, striking yet modest, a combination that intimidates many but yet magnetically attracts others.
And as opposites attract. Two beings, at different stages in their lives and from very different circumstances meet and are drawn to each other. Both seeking something. Both probably not knowing what they are seeking. Some people know, others don't.
Life is grand for a while. Rosy, even. Decisions are reached, plans made, things are sorting themselves out nicely. Then the sickness, then the depression of being sick, then the questions.
Why am I sick?, I don't drink, smoke. Others live far more dangerous lives than me. Why?
Then the truth.
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February 4, 2007, 10:06
What is the problem? Who is ill and who has been killed?