BagseedSamurai
Active member
Winter is fast approaching now. The green of the treeline has become a beautiful shade of oranges and yellows and reds. The air is crisp and sometimes you can even see your breath. The mountain is full of snow and it has come down on my home more than once now, already. The sky is usually grey but this does not seem to make it more dreary, it only contrasts the colors around me. I wish I could enjoy it. I wish I could ignore how very horrible this year has been and enjoy the time I am in right now for what it is, or at the very least, fill that darkness in my heart with the light of how great I know next year will be. I just can't seem to move on past all of this. I don't even know how to properly grieve and sometimes it feels like I will never stop feeling like I am just a moment's breadth away from bursting into tears. It feels like I am trying to stand upright on broken legs.
There are days that I am alright. Usually when I am around my soon-to-be wife and my unborn daughter. Those are my good days. Little sprinkles of hope in a world that seems to have taken away everyone from my past that cared about me. Just swallowed them whole. Gone. While I understand that it is hard to take any time a loved one dies, I have to admit that this year has taken away two of the most important and influential people I ever knew and, to be completely honest, I'm still not sure how to act or even how to feel. It's hard to pin down a single emotion when life is so full of miraculous highs, and devastating lows. I've been trying hard not to share the lows with anyone. When I cry, I cry alone. I don't feel like I should share this with anyone yet. It's too scary to think about. Like the moment that anyone see's me cry, it's final. No turning back. No givesies backsies. Yet, in this I even feel guilty. Guilty for hiding it, or acting like I'm alright when I have moments of random depression that literally take the breath out of me, unprompted except by the most menial of things such as the way a kid holds his mom's hand, a cereal box on a store shelf or a particular moment in a television episode. It may not be for the reasons that most people might hide it. While there is a small amount of discomfort in it, for me, the problem lies in the fact that I am genuinely just sick and tired of feeling this way, and any time I have reason or means to fight it, you'd better be sure that I will.
My grandfather was a great man. Bobby was my best friend. They were both the people I would go to when life got to be too much. I often referred to my grandparents as the parents I never had, while I often referred to Bobby as the brother I never had. It took years, but with them in my corner, I gained confidence, attended University and had the courage to move to another state to begin a business. If it were not for them, I might not be the same person I am now. In fact, I know that I wouldn't. In that time, I have seen tragedy and loss firsthand. Bobby use to tell me that he was proud and amazed at the person I had become after knowing where I had come from. He said that I was his personal hero. Yet, the pain of losing these two people has been more painful than any backhand, missed meal/holiday or disownment ever was. Finally being aware of some semblance of family ties only to have those ties snapped by the pain of death has been almost too much to bear. Yet, life springs anew. My daughter, Coraline, will be born in February. With her comes a chance for me to show someone the life I never had and to forge a family of my own from quite literally nothing. I can only hope that I will make my grandfather and my best friend proud.
There are days that I am alright. Usually when I am around my soon-to-be wife and my unborn daughter. Those are my good days. Little sprinkles of hope in a world that seems to have taken away everyone from my past that cared about me. Just swallowed them whole. Gone. While I understand that it is hard to take any time a loved one dies, I have to admit that this year has taken away two of the most important and influential people I ever knew and, to be completely honest, I'm still not sure how to act or even how to feel. It's hard to pin down a single emotion when life is so full of miraculous highs, and devastating lows. I've been trying hard not to share the lows with anyone. When I cry, I cry alone. I don't feel like I should share this with anyone yet. It's too scary to think about. Like the moment that anyone see's me cry, it's final. No turning back. No givesies backsies. Yet, in this I even feel guilty. Guilty for hiding it, or acting like I'm alright when I have moments of random depression that literally take the breath out of me, unprompted except by the most menial of things such as the way a kid holds his mom's hand, a cereal box on a store shelf or a particular moment in a television episode. It may not be for the reasons that most people might hide it. While there is a small amount of discomfort in it, for me, the problem lies in the fact that I am genuinely just sick and tired of feeling this way, and any time I have reason or means to fight it, you'd better be sure that I will.
My grandfather was a great man. Bobby was my best friend. They were both the people I would go to when life got to be too much. I often referred to my grandparents as the parents I never had, while I often referred to Bobby as the brother I never had. It took years, but with them in my corner, I gained confidence, attended University and had the courage to move to another state to begin a business. If it were not for them, I might not be the same person I am now. In fact, I know that I wouldn't. In that time, I have seen tragedy and loss firsthand. Bobby use to tell me that he was proud and amazed at the person I had become after knowing where I had come from. He said that I was his personal hero. Yet, the pain of losing these two people has been more painful than any backhand, missed meal/holiday or disownment ever was. Finally being aware of some semblance of family ties only to have those ties snapped by the pain of death has been almost too much to bear. Yet, life springs anew. My daughter, Coraline, will be born in February. With her comes a chance for me to show someone the life I never had and to forge a family of my own from quite literally nothing. I can only hope that I will make my grandfather and my best friend proud.
