When loss will be grieved, when loss will be teaching, when loss does it all, always.
Losing beings is something every single one will have to go through at so many points in their lives. For reality is a fluidity of coming and going, for people entering and exiting one’s life, most of the time opening a door, which instantly shall be closed after. Some of us will influence through a small gesture, a word or an action, some will be ephemeral memories, while some might become vital lessons, examples of what one has to avoid in the future, or of what one might have to change about their past. Some of us will break hearts, or heal those open wounds, only to make them bleed stronger, when gone again. Some of us might appear as never to be forgotten, but in the end all of us will be, for not even the ones left to remember are eternal and maybe chasing recognition and dedicating the life to heroism, with the purpose of immortality will not even be realistic enough, in the end.
But how do we manage loss, how are we able to bear, with the stabbing caused by a final goodbye. How can we possibly comprehend it, especially when followed by an even stronger grief, by the one where adieu was abolished before knowledge of vicinity? How can one first of all place under the same question mark the loss of someone who dedicated their whole time and energy in raising you, in protecting you and loving you - not through words, but through every single action - with the one of someone who decided that they don’t want to know anything anymore from you? Somebody who never asked you about your feelings, who denied your opinions and who just chased you when it was appealing to an ideal vision they had in their minds. Although the pain is extremely different, and knowing that the loved one you used to call every single day will never be able to be called again, because they simply, brutally, are not here anymore does not compare to the one caused by the person who simply, ignorantly, does not want to reply anymore… it still is pain, it is so much pain.
Pain will be followed by a state of feeling…blank. Purely blank. This is a way one will deal with it all. A curtain will cover your mind, shadows seen by the eye will slowly fade, but so will the focus. A protective cover will be formed, an invisible wall, one which will show its shapes and corners only when a similar situation will give signs of being created. Only when opening up to someone again, only when trusting someone again will it become an option…an option which, inevitable, not to be condemned, will be avoided at first.
It might be, at the same time, that the physical will fail for a while, the immune system will show no more resistance to attacks and every tear will mirror itself in an allergy, in a cold, in a biological sickness.
The pain will never go away, I know this, although my pain is not even weeks old, I know it will stay here forever. But the pain does metamorphose. The grief felt for the one who has always been there will one day be an encouragement to become a better version of self, to push your limits in reaching that goal, in learning that skill. I will do this for you. They would have been proud of me. This is how they would have liked me to do it.
The ones gone, the ones who left a mark on us and are never really gone; they continue to exist through us and with us; they are us. Everything they taught us shall continue to be practiced through us, every idea they shared with us, every scent of their energy infiltrated in our pores and continues to shine, as incredible it might seem, as fantastical and esoteric it might sound, and I was never the one to call for higher spirits. And the same is true about the ones not physically gone from reality as we see it, just from our surroundings. The ones who took the decision in your place, of pulling you on different paths, condemned never to cross again. Of cutting off every bond, of acting as every moment shared, moments so precious and significant to you, equal absolutely nothing. Of something you cannot realize just now: of setting you free from someone not right for you. And that is this circuit of lives. We appear, we create, we leave, we break, we repair, we destroy. We are stolen from what is more important to us. We are never receiving a second chance. We get no opportunities to say one last word and it will always be too late, it is always too late. This is no movie, there is no time machine around for us humble humans, now and today is all we have. And we will never finally understand this, we will always keep making the same mistakes, we will always give too much, only to be hurt after. Abandoned…or never enough, never enough. Just, never regret; take it as it is. We will never learn, but maybe we should not learn anyway. Pain is important, pain is a process and too late is even more important. The person you haven’t said in years that you love them, because you felt awkward and you are colder, it is just how you are…that person knows what you thought, they know that they were all for you and you do not dare think the opposite for one more time. And the person who did not want you anymore, because you dared stop being cold and showed what for them is vulnerability, weakness, will only understand what it meant when they will go be in your place with someone who will act as they did.
And it is so important that it will be too late, too late for us all.
About the author:
With a passion for culture, psyche, exploring the world, and coming in contact with an infinite number of stories, I studied theatre, film and media, in sociology, along with writing at the University of Vienna. I tend to find beauty in every single element, while always attempting to fully live every experience, to archive it in the form of photography and written word. Not one day goes by for me without a journalistic discovery, an interview recorded or articles structured. If I would have to set a goal for the future, it would be to find an equilibrium between constant academic research and my engagement in international opportunities. My desired engagement is on a multidisciplinary level, in a never-ending journey while also trying to discover the fluidity of the self, complementing the world around me with the goal of having a small impact in pressing global issues.