the day comes with great stealth and i am always left in surprise of how it sneaks up on me. june 6th is always a reminder of how fragile life is, and from year to year it grows into a reminder of how fast the years go by. how i am lost more and more in the passing of time.
it’s still hard to accept his death. there are many things i never “got over”, this would be the first of them. i don’t remember so many of our conversations, i’m sure we must have talked about life in ambiguities. he was so young, i was so naive. and even then, in only merely 14 years of age, life made so much more sense. as if we knew there was a place we were going, there was the bliss of security.
when he died, that was first time i ever experienced true pain. the kind that never leaves you. the kind that grows into a part of who you are. not many can claim to have lost a close friend at so young a age, which is just as well. it’s a type of hurt that nearly a dozen years still haven’t been able to cure. i can’t say that of other aches i have experienced, not even heart breaks.
lately i’ve been writing about my broken heart, but dear reader, you should know by now, heartbreak is the easiest of pains to write about. there are matters of suffocating importance that i have no words to frame my feelings in. i don’t have the courage to admit on a paperless diary about so much that is currently transpiring. there are things so much larger than i cannot dare to type up here.
when i went back and read my blog not too long ago, i noticed a strange thing: i had never written about the best of times, and on par with that, there is no content from the worst of it. you would not be able to know this was it. just reading what i write here, there are but a few well hidden clues of the greater sufferings in life. pains far greater than the man i would do anything for telling me he doesn’t love me anymore. fears that far surpass the uncertainty of everything. the uncertainty of life. the uncertainty of death.
when i think of it, i suppose 11 years ago i lost the first great love of my life. when you’re so young, when you’re so full of promise, death leaves that love immortalized. it leaves that love perfect. i’d still much rather he was alive.