“What do you want to do when you grow up?”
“Why, make a difference in people’s lives. I want to help people.”
It is that simple, isn’t it? It can be.
That has been scoffed at several times. For its idealism. For its simplicity. For the naivety.
But you know, it is doable. It is. It was. Until.
Everyone has that one incident that break and plunge them to the deepest depths in ways unrepairable.
Back in high school, a close galfriend lost her grandmother and she gave away almost everything dear to her, including her darling dog. I knew what and why she was doing what she did and tried to stop her, but couldn’t.
Recently, a friend lost his beloved and started giving away many belongings, and again, it was not within my means to cut in and provide unsolicited advice.
It is strange. Loss is something you experience more of when you grow older, but no one gets used to it.
There is a wound that will never heal.
Though this has been written about before, no one, except those involved, knows who I am talking about, or understands what really happened, why it led to this, and how deep the pain. The crux of it.
I miss you, friend. It is November and there is Winter inside of me every day.
I am sorry. For that ****** ****.
I am sorry. It was not enough. It was never enough, whatever I have said and done, whatever I could have said to make you feel less alone in your fight, whatever more I could have done, in spite of you pushing everyone away so strongly, like texting you more to let you know that you are not alone, like texting you to let you know we wanted so much to be there for you, whatever it took whatever it could have been, it was not enough and I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry I couldn’t do more I am sorry please forgive me I am sorry. I want to save the world but I couldn’t even save you.
Ms E said no one should ever blame themselves for what happened because usually when the decision has been made, not much can be done. But.. that ****** ****…
Today, it was raining and the weather was dreary and grey. My shoes were soaked, my clothes, wet, but all I could feel were shards of cold piercing deep within, as if the ice in me was cracking from the sheer pressure of suppression.
That irrevocable day, you went away and everything changed. The lights went out, innocence lost.
After that, I stopped talking about making a difference. Stopped getting emotionally involved in people’s issues. Not uncaring, just not able to deal with it again. People reached for me for help as usual but everything has stopped. The more they reach out to me, the faster I run.
It is that one person whom you are unable to save that stays with you for life.
Until now, I still talk more about me than about you, because I want to protect you and your circumstances from this world, this world too cruel and judgemental for a gentle soul like you, this world too harsh and unforgiving for a person like you to be in.
Dear friend, I miss you every day.