The Other Side of Suicide

Your why became the unchosen axis from which my world forever rotates.  I’m forced to gain my equilibrium and handle being “different”.  I smile and laugh like the rest, but I will always be on the fringe and not like them anymore.

At some point in the chaos of discovering your exit,  I unknowingly and by default, lost an important part of myself too.  A piece of me that somehow believes her fruitless quest will yield the answers to make this all ok.

Her quest is invasive and never ending.  She continuously treks through our memories and tramples on sacred times.  The memories I have have been so desperately trying to preserve.  Unapologetically unearthing it all, searching for the golden vail of why; her invasive excavation never stops and it disrupts my recollection of the times we built together.

This secret archeological dig is now a big part of our history.  I’m forced to watch our memories crumble to ruins over and over again, as this frenzied piece of me: digs in fury, digs in vain, digs in purpose, digs in pain.

Sometimes, when it gets too much and I can’t take it, I sing to her of love and faith.  Then her digging slows and I think she will finally rest in the understanding that, there is no why. There is only what was… and what is.

But then I realize, her quest isn’t a solo mission.  She digs not only for herself, but the others too.  The family who’s eyes still bear the reflection of you and the same indelible question mark etched in their hearts….

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