V is for Vagenda (Part 24 – All Who Remain)
Tell the
one above he's a criminal
For taking
and giving life like marble candy
Everything
collapses around me
Overwhelms
and astounds me
A Terrible
Truth
When you
leave this life, the world will be a darker place for all who remain
When you
leave this life, the world will be a darker place for all who remain
And the
light you gave the human race will go away...
I see you
every time that I close my eyes
I hum
every lullaby that you used to sing
You never
know the last time you'll see someone
So give
them all of your love
Cause
they'll disappear
When you
leave this life, the world will be a darker place for all who remain
When you
leave this life, the world will be a darker place for all who remain
And the
light you gave the human race will go away...
If I can't
have you in this life
Then I
don't want this life at all
Cause
there's nothing in this broken world
That I'll
ever love as much
I called
and I called but you never picked up
And I
cried and I cried but you never woke up
You died
and you died without asking me first
You left
me all alone here on Earth
When you
leave this life the world will be a darker place for all who remain
When you
leave this life the world will be a darker place for all who remain
When you
leave this life the world will be a darker place for all who remain
When you
leave this life the world will be a darker place for all who remain
We are all
We are all
who remain
We are all
We are all
who remain
- Beware
Of Darkness (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1f8JH8R240)
Fitting that this was the last song playing on my
radio. I waited a few seconds alone in
the car after the long drive here, tears running freely in my running car, and
I don’t care who can see. Who am I
trying to impress, anyway? No one. No one ever again. I shut off the car as the song completes,
slowly emerging a stranger in a strange place.
Rain pouring down, I guess that will conceal the tears from anyone looking. I can smell gasoline, staring at the water
dripping from the “M” in Michelin on the front drivers side tire. Where am I going? Does it matter?
All
Who Remain
I love the feeling of being lost, going somewhere new, being
unknown, discovering new things in unfamiliar surroundings with absolutely no
bearings. Imagining what it might be
like to live there, or what the people there are like, what hope feels
like… Like anything else other than what
it is to be me…
I couldn’t face the funeral.
The people who would know me, judge me, too afraid to ask what even I
can’t face to answer to myself.
Questions like “What are you doing here?”, or “How dare you show up
here? This is his families’ time to grieve, you have no right! How could you be so selfish?” will certainly
be the small ones that will never come up now.
How could I look at his lifeless body?
It isn’t how I want to remember him.
How could I stand staring at the biggest mistake I ever made? Maybe, just maybe, if I thought I was worthy
and took him, kept him, embraced deserving him, told him how I felt when he
bore it all to me instead of pushing him away breaking his heart – just maybe
we both would have been happy – and both be alive today.
I used to think I wasn’t enough, that I had nothing to
offer, that he could do better and deserved so much better. It was too late when I finally realized that
because I even could have such feelings for him, and care to hold him on such a
high pedestal, that I really was the one who loved him most – that no one could
ever love him more purely. It hurt
feeling his thoughts all these years, knowing this was mutual. The failure was mine.
He tried to find solace, and love in this life in the wake
of what would become the origin of my ultimate spiritual self-destruction. He never found anyone who treated him right,
and when he discovered he got his last girlfriend pregnant, he did what those
rare good men do – everything they can to make a family work to honor who was
about to bear his line. It should have
been me – after that he was tied to her, and whether or not he liked it, he
would never risk anyone’s feelings straying short of doing all he could to make
it work.
I’m a fucking idiot, and deserve this searing pain.
It is no coincidence in my mind that I began my lifetime of
pain with this disease within a month of making the biggest mistake of my life. I never knew how to turn things around and
make it right – and now I never can.
I stop at a convenience store after walking in the rain for
the last hour with these thoughts cycling in my mind tormenting my soul when I
see it behind the counter – cigarettes.
Specifically, “Canadian Classics”.
His brand. I might as well do
this right – I buy a pack, a Mercedes branded Zippo, and a gold-plated svelte cigarette
case.
It is something that is a better fit for cowards like me –
as it was for me in the past, him in his lifetime, and deep down, I suspect
universal for all. When life can feel
too dark and hopeless, a cigarette can help.
It can help you feel in control knowing you are slowly ruining the
remaining beauty in you in small subconscious steps – microscopic suicide – in
portions small enough for those of us too afraid to just do it all at once.
I quit cold turkey when my daughter was born, but today,
relapse.
I contemplate the state of my sanity, and the level of
corruption now within my once pure soul as I toss the smoking butt into the
dirty slush on the side of the dimly lit road.
…my head hurts so much...
I snap out of my depressing stupor for a moment as I get a
message on my communicator – forgot I still had the stupid thing on me...
I read the text and laugh at this vicious scowling diatribe
from Laura Lightning pissed of that she went to the funeral to find I wasn’t
there. Typical that when she seeks to do
something compassionate, she still manages to make a sad matter worse, and
twist her delivery so we can all see how everything is about her. Times like this provide perspective and
priority.
Fuck the little bitch.
Blocked…
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