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lala91 (profile) wrote, on 6-23-2004 at 5:25pm | |
I woke up this morning shaken from a dream; you were there, alive, and all the pain of the last five years had never occurred at all; no funeral, no messages written on the casket, no crying myself to sleep every night. my first thought of the morning was, what was your last thought as your life drained from your body?- your existence becoming a statistic, your future claimed by the chaos of life and the noose around your neck. The medical examiner claimed that most suicide victims instinctually scratch and pry at the noose in their last moments; She found your skin beneath your nails – and chalked it up to impulse, to a natural human response to danger: the fight for self preservation – for life. I wonder if you changed your mind when it was too late; if the faces of your family and your friends flashed in front of you; if the beauty of life and the strength of love at that moment seemed like enough to live for, but apparently nooses do not ask “are you sure?” as they claim your fourteen year old life. I wonder if visions of rainbows danced in your mind; sunsets over the ocean; your wife walking down the aisle to say "I do"; your baby being born, his first piercing scream awakening a part of your heart you didn't know existed... I wonder if you realized you weren't ready yet, seeing your life's potential waiting to be fulfilled with the fullness of life and the sheer imperfect beauty of it all - but it was too late? I shake my head to clear these morbid thoughts, far too gruesome for such a beautiful Sunday morning. I will continue my day in your absence, approaching five years I have wandered through life without you at my side. Like usual, I will see someone with sandy hair and turquoise eyes in the coffee line, and I will double check just to make sure it is not you. For some reason, hearts do not accept the finality of death. then I will wonder what you would have looked like at nineteen, what beautiful roads you might have found yourself driving down, windows open, music up, and free from the demons you fatally fought with five years ago… how much more beauty my life would have had, if you had stayed. but these are morbid thoughts for a gorgeous Sunday in June, so I push you from my mind and throw the covers back to begin one more day without you – five years have taught me how to do so, but haven’t shown me how to forget you or how to understand that your bones are becoming dust in a coffin… that you are now nothing but memories. |
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