Iâm not certain this would help but Iâm running impatient with myself. If itâs one thing I absolutely dislike, itâs pity; so I find difficulty in being comforted by others. But never have I felt this angry, saddened, and âneedyâ for such this period of time.
Youâre supposed to be here.Â
I was supposed to graduate and meet you right here in my home. Go figure.Â
For the past few nights, Iâve been meeting you in my dreams and I wake up hoping to see you there to ask you for yet another interpretation... Instead I meet a disappointing nothingness, an unwanted absence. I love that you always had an answer for my dreams, and even if they may not have been totally accurate, I liked that that was a thing we had, and how I entrusted you with them. Maybe you knew me so well that in my weirdest/scariest of dreams, you said the right things to realign my conscience, and reassure me. I may look like I have it all together, but my mind tends to run wild. I suppose I canât help it, after all, a creative person never truly stops thinking or bridging parallels. I suppose this is why Iâm writing to you. Iâm searching for my answer in your silence.
Donât take this the wrong way, I totally understand that people have to do what they have to do. And that âyouâll always be there,â but Iâll try to make this my last ounce of selfishness. Iâve read so many books and listened to so many songs about loss and death, that I figured a situation like this would not be as aggressive as it is now. I see my mother, another first-born, take this with stride (and gracefully shed her emotions in peace and quiet) and I canât seem to match up to her strength. I weep, and in a very ugly way, because to me I have not fulfilled my duty as your granddaughter. I am not showing my younger siblings that I am their shoulder to cry on, but rather the one spending an hour on the bathroom floor, ungracefully crying in war and wails.Â
Gran, this has been a too-long dream that I canât find real meaning out of. I know what death means, but I need to understand what happens next; whatâs the catch? Whatâs the reward for this nightmare? And when do I fully accept it for what it is? Today though, I noticed the flexibility of dreams and real life. That there is no âliteral interpretation,â for an interpretation in its definition contradicts the notion of âliteral.â You told me these things because you cared and believed in me, and wanted to rid the doubts that my conscience so visually illustrated in my slumber. I made myself a promise a few years ago that I would take care of myself more, and achieve that which I yearn for. Though as of recent, I had been thoroughly upset at the world for your leaving, Iâve been telling myself that this was your dramatic, final lesson to me. I have to decode my own dreams.Â
Reminding myself this now and again, I think of the many people, or rather, the many dreams that youâve listened to. Happenings happen and we carry on sleeping. Youâve encouraged us to open up and reach out to others for help; for interpretations, for light in our dark. That is love. You love with all you are and have, and boy are you loved right back. Itâs a bit intimidating to imagine and witness how well known and loved you are, and by so many (the prior being a personal fear of mine). But to be loved is one of the many things we live for.Â
While youâre still existing in my unreality, know that I will continue to love thoroughly and fully as you always have, for the rest of my life.
2087
ellievsbear
annaxmalina
origamiaround
