My parents were dead. That was the reality of it. I could put it in much less plain terms that many of my friends and relatives had tried doing to help me deal with the pain. But when it boils down to it, that was the fact of the matter. I stared up at the ceiling not wanting to get out of bed and have to deal with everyone trying to make me feel better again. Not wanting to have to have a bunch of people comfort me with their fake words like; “the pain will pass with time” or “they loved you so much!” or my least favorite of the bunch; “I know how you feel…” screw all of that! I know that the pain will pass in time, I don’t need some weird’ o telling me that.
And as if I wanted a constant reminder of how much my parents loved me! They told me that every day! I know they loved me, I know that better then anyone…and its not as if it helped anyone to tell me that…it only helped them replace their grief, or when they don’t know what to say to fill the awkwardness silences of conversation-so they just go with something obvious that it cant possibly mean anything.
Or when people tell me they know how I feel...it only makes me feel worse. I mean I know that if they haven’t experienced someone they love very dearly dying…they cant possibly imagine. They cant possibly know how I feel…though I suppose that’s good…for if they could actually imagine… if they did actually know how I feel… well, the world must be a very dreary place indeed.