Sometimes, I feel cheated. Out of a lot. Out of the best parts of my life. Out of what could have been.
Out of what SHOULD have been.
Sometimes, I want to protest. Demand a do over. A more justified outcome. Something. Anything. And when I realize that it isn’t possible, I crack. Because life sometimes seems so pointless, when everything that was and could have and should have been…isn’t.
When you see other people living their lives, without any harm done. When you see picture perfect families. Or not even picture perfect. When I hear of divorce. When I hear someone belittling their other half. Referring to them as EX, putting great emphasis on that. I want to shake them, and tell them to WAKE THE HECK UP. I want to rush out and fix what IS because I want what they have.
I admit. I am jealous. Jealous that people can live their lives, and not give second thought to things. Jealous that people can actually live their lives, untainted. Jealous that no matter how hard, or how sincere they might be – they CANT give second thoughts to things. They cant imagine life without. They cant change how they live, to how things COULD be, because they don’t know. I get jealous of who I was, and who I never will be. I want to scream, ITS NOT FAIR. Because sometimes…it seems so unfair.
So very unfair.
And yes, sometimes I want to feel sorry for myself. I want to fall down and never get up. Pretend Im the only one ever touch by pain. That Im the only one living this way, because in a small way…I guess it makes me feel better. To think that others have it ok, and I don’t. In more than one way, it justifies what happened. But then I realize, Im not. And no matter how hard I try, I cant escape it.
Friends, people, everywhere. Living, without someone special.
I cant outrun it. Everywhere I turn, there is pain and sadness, and hurt. And as much as I want to justify it…I cant. I cant explain it away. I cant make it ok. I cant fall down and not get up. I cant feel sorry for myself, when there are so many other people living this way. Hurting more than I am. Living with pain, and loss. Living in this world. Living their lives, trying to be ok. Even when its not.
Suddenly not only does my heart hurt for what I don’t have, it hurts for what others don’t have. And instead of feeling sorry for myself, I feel sorry for the world. For these people. Those who havent been hurt, and those who have. Im sorry that I cant change things, that because of THIS death, things arent different.
I want to hear their names. I want to know that they were and still are important to someone other than me. I want to be reminded that they DID live, and they WERE important. I want to smile, and relive moments with someone…other than myself. I want to say “Hey remember when…” and laugh. And cry with someone. Who knows. Who remembers. Who were important to them too.
But everyone shuts it off. They don’t mention the name. They don’t remember. They prefer to ignore. Look the other way, and leave me trying, helplessly to shut the memories off. But I cant. And they seep out, and I go crazy. Thinking Im the only one who really remembers them. The only one who cares, and loves. And I go on a downward spiral. Thinking no one cares about anything.
Thinking that because I havent heard their name, thinking that because people cant read my mind and say just the right thing at just the right time…that no one, NO ONE cares about ANYTHING.
I make the mistake all the time. I fall. I crash. I cant always be strong, all the time. As hard as I try. As hard as it is to admit. I miss them. I miss their names. Their memories. Them. Even all this time later. I miss. And I know other people miss too. Miss other people, other loved ones. Others. And even if they don’t, they care about something. Or someone. And if they don’t miss, that’s ok. Let them live, innocently. Peacefully. Without regret. Without reserve. Without second thoughts. And as jealous as I might be, atleast they wont understand why.
I try, to be ok. I try. But I fail. And for that, I am sorry.
Sorry to whom I have failed. Who I have let down. Who I have failed to give the benefit of the doubt.
People care, about different things. And not everyone has to care about the things I do. Or you do. But its not right, and its not wrong. It just is.