Wednesday 2 July 2014

Why am I writing this I do not know, should I be writing this I do not know. I'm going to write it anyway.

For a loved one to die is one thing, to be reason of their death is a whole different league.

There are nights where all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry, nights that I crave for comfort and cuddles. Tonight is one of those nights.

It amazes me that I still feel the need to be consoled, comforted and cured of nightmares and demons. I've come to learn the only person who can help us feel better is ourselves. And I just read somewhere that it has to be done with utmost compassion. Be kind to yourself.

I think I'm going to babble nonstop. I came across a blog written in tribute for a total stranger, a son, brother, husband, father and an amazing friend and human who touched lives of many, left behind memories for each of them to cherish. Is forty even an age to die? But God knows better. Why else would accidents happen all over the world, robbing wombs, leaving behind widows and orphans?

Death, fascinates me. I wish I could have a heart to heart with Azrael (the angel of death, he's my favorite angel btw. But since last night I have developed a fear for him. A silly fear. I'm scared that he'd be near a soul I love and I wouldn't even sense his presence, not till he's snatched the soul away) ask him about death, how it feels like to be at the giving end and if he knows what it feels like to be at the receiving end to be the one dying.

Reminds me of the lesson we learned in English the title of which went something like "I'm not afraid to die, if we can all die together". No it isn't death most people are afraid of, it is the pain to be endured to be lived with for the rest of their lives after the loss of a loved one.

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