an explination
i will be trying to blog here...as much as possible. the only "real" reason is because amy is still doing it...and i want to be on her "buddies" list again. ;)
on to other things.
a friend wrote to tell me that she noticed that I was hiding, and that she wanted to let me know she was thinking of me. I thought I would just write back and say 'thank you', but as it often happens when i get letters or lines beneath my fingertips, the truth comes out. The following is the main body of the reply i sent her. i thought it might be smart to share this with anyone who cares about me. thank you.
"no amount of pretending otherwise in public and to family and friends is going to take away the fact that my friend is dead, and freshly, and i have to deal with that as the public - and my family and friends - see fit. that is harder and hurts more than anyone (except maybe andrew) knows. because he was/is on the other side of the world, i am not allowed the same grief, it seems [another friend] said something to me on friday night that really, finally drove that point home. i carry it as best i know how and find that my love and compassion for the rest of the world has dimmed as a result. i try even harder, in an attempt to morally contradict my selfish anger, to be good and polite and helpful and understanding, and turn a little more into steel every day.
i still cry for Hans every day. there is a hole in the world where he was. i don't know how else to put it, but i miss him more than i've ever missed any living friend (sounds awful, right? but it's true...) even just dealing with the grief of that realization is a plateful... but that is life isn't it? all of that is/was to be expected, and i know i'll cope with it just like i have with everything else. the hard part is trying to pretend like things are still the same with the people around me, or that things even ok in any way. trying to pretend like i'm fine because it very much seems that this is what people expect of me. trying to gracefully understand and deal with people's insensitivity about it, trying to remember every *!$%&* day why i do that, knowing for sure, underneath it all that it's not really worth it - but it's my job. my heart has changed like metal in fire, and not for the good. i understand my own wickedness now better than i ever thought i could. i can only hope that i am looking at it from the opposite side of the mirror. i suppose only time will tell."
...
lots of scary things swimming under the surface. i tend to forget how phosphorescent my anger can burn. i do my best to contain the fire, but that's bad in a way too. i have been actively working on taking a more 'zen' perspective, and trying hard to be more kind and accepting, though i definitely feel less so. it seems like the only practical defense.
as for the scary swimmers, thank god i can deal with them here. i can be honest with SOMEone... anyone who cares to listen, in fact. what a blessing. and even if no one is listening, it still makes me feel like i've tried to do something to help myself, even if it's just put a message in a bottle and cast it out on the scary water.
i guess i need to remember that there are good things about phosphorous. it burns even in water, and it puts off a hell of a light.
on to other things.
a friend wrote to tell me that she noticed that I was hiding, and that she wanted to let me know she was thinking of me. I thought I would just write back and say 'thank you', but as it often happens when i get letters or lines beneath my fingertips, the truth comes out. The following is the main body of the reply i sent her. i thought it might be smart to share this with anyone who cares about me. thank you.
"no amount of pretending otherwise in public and to family and friends is going to take away the fact that my friend is dead, and freshly, and i have to deal with that as the public - and my family and friends - see fit. that is harder and hurts more than anyone (except maybe andrew) knows. because he was/is on the other side of the world, i am not allowed the same grief, it seems [another friend] said something to me on friday night that really, finally drove that point home. i carry it as best i know how and find that my love and compassion for the rest of the world has dimmed as a result. i try even harder, in an attempt to morally contradict my selfish anger, to be good and polite and helpful and understanding, and turn a little more into steel every day.
i still cry for Hans every day. there is a hole in the world where he was. i don't know how else to put it, but i miss him more than i've ever missed any living friend (sounds awful, right? but it's true...) even just dealing with the grief of that realization is a plateful... but that is life isn't it? all of that is/was to be expected, and i know i'll cope with it just like i have with everything else. the hard part is trying to pretend like things are still the same with the people around me, or that things even ok in any way. trying to pretend like i'm fine because it very much seems that this is what people expect of me. trying to gracefully understand and deal with people's insensitivity about it, trying to remember every *!$%&* day why i do that, knowing for sure, underneath it all that it's not really worth it - but it's my job. my heart has changed like metal in fire, and not for the good. i understand my own wickedness now better than i ever thought i could. i can only hope that i am looking at it from the opposite side of the mirror. i suppose only time will tell."
...
lots of scary things swimming under the surface. i tend to forget how phosphorescent my anger can burn. i do my best to contain the fire, but that's bad in a way too. i have been actively working on taking a more 'zen' perspective, and trying hard to be more kind and accepting, though i definitely feel less so. it seems like the only practical defense.
as for the scary swimmers, thank god i can deal with them here. i can be honest with SOMEone... anyone who cares to listen, in fact. what a blessing. and even if no one is listening, it still makes me feel like i've tried to do something to help myself, even if it's just put a message in a bottle and cast it out on the scary water.
i guess i need to remember that there are good things about phosphorous. it burns even in water, and it puts off a hell of a light.
1 Comments:
Hannah.
I love you so much. You are a "shining star of the universe" and you glow and love more than most anyone else I've ever known.
I'm sorry it's so hard, and I'm sorry it happened. I know you'll continue to love and grow through it, though, because that's just what you do, my dear Hannah.
you build it up, you wreck it down... (you've got to hold on)
*muah*
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