martedì, novembre 03, 2009

Must actually get around to watching that 1996 Mike Leigh film with the great title

Oh readers, my heart is breaking. You know how pissy I get every time something I think is stupid is said or done, which makes me pretty pissy most of the time. But this is the first time I've had to watch stupid erase all my hope that someone I love is still alive.

I know it looks like fun, kids, but stupid KILLS.

I don't know how I get over this or move past this or anything. This is a grief I can't see the other side of. When people who I love died in the past, there were so many differences. I was prepared for it in a sense, but more importantly so were they. In at least two instances they waited patiently for their family's permission to let go and die. And we could all celebrate their lives and reflect on the great good they'd given us together, and we could all say "there was no stone left unturned in our love for them, we all did everything we could and loved them as well as we could."

But now . . . no. Not only the pain of the manner of his death - which is still a matter of some speculation - but of feeling that no, not everything was done. That some things that don't matter a good goddamn in Mistress La Spliffe Land mattered more than this man's life in the Land of His Family. And the horrible, wormy thought that I don't believe myself but which is nonetheless damaging my own conscience like fucking termites: what if he is alive and is waiting for help in the circumstances that I fear?

No, I don't see the other side of this. I don't see any lessons coming out of it. I don't see a single fucking speck of good or celebration or anything that isn't pure fucking never-ending suck, and I'm so sad and I miss him so much that I don't even have the energy to find refuge in pissiness anymore.

Some of you Blogrollers have families that seem like more of a curse than a blessing, and I've read and I've sympathized but I haven't understood for shit. What sort of sheltered existence have I led that this is the first time I've looked at a man's family and understood that concept as a reality? Is this a lack of emotional understanding on my part? Is it the case that many families are like this - just ticking along with all their secrets and lies, and then choking on those secrets and lies in a crisis?

Maybe that's the only good that can come out of this as far as I'm concerned - I always thought secrets and lies should be kept to the bare minimum but perhaps this was the practical demonstration I needed to make sure to stick to that once I start pumping out the kiddies. I guess we'll never fucking know.

2 commenti:

Lady ha detto...

having lost someone near and dear in a quite distasteful and untimely fashion in the last few years, i can truly sympathize. although at least we had a corpse to weep over. it's the thought of suffering and fear that destroys you the most, wishing you could shelter that person from whatever they suffered before they died.

the uncertainty of it all must be crushing. life has a strange way of going about things.

courage, ma belle.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Lady, you and I are so lucky in our respective families. So fucking lucky.