Originally published on: February 6th, 2007

I was thinking today, as one often does when he/she is left alone for long enough, and I came across a horrible reality that I’d come across many a time before but never thought of writing it down simply because it’s part of the reason for my cynical mind, and I didn’t want to upset anyone.

But the time has come for me to make havoc once again, so here I go. I’m spitting it out, with no consideration for my readers, with no thought of sugar-coating it in any untruths and fairytales. This is cold, hard “truth” (Either that, or I’m even more pessimistic than I thought and everything I say in this article is therefore only true in my mind).

People leave.

In one way or another; be it death, travel, relationships or just plain loss of contact that drive us apart, people leave. And it’s a terrible thing to think about, but it happens, and one day, if you’ve lived in a cage with your family your whole life and have not had the chance to experience this for yourself, someone is going to leave you. Yes, you.

Don’t get me wrong, some people stay for the longest amount of time, and those people who stay are wonderful and therefore make your life journey that much more wonderful, however, the fact of the matter is, some people leave. Looks like I’m starting to repeat, so I should get to the next paragraph now.

There were times (notice the past tense) I’d wonder why we even bother to make friends. Why we put the in effort to meet new people and spend that tiny bit of our lives with them, be it in high school, for a few days or even a couple of hours.

Why? Because it lets us live easier knowing there are nice people out there worth meeting? Because they filled our hearts with happiness like no other had done before? Because it just makes you feel good about yourself? Because there’s no reason not to?

Doesn’t your newfound joy crumble when you have to say goodbye, with or without warning? Isn’t it painful every time you shake hands with a person for the first time knowing, no matter how much this person will influence the way you live your life, you’re eventually going to have to part (And that’s not even including those people you meet and instantly/grow to passionately hate)?

I’m a depressingly pathetic person; I can’t deal with that kind of reality. I don’t do well with ‘Good-bye’s and funerals. And it’s sad, really, because I used to be prepared for these kind of things. I used to think of it as part of life; growing up; learning. Maybe I never realised departure’s true sorrow because I had no real people to cry over, or maybe it was religion and, from what I was taught, the hope that there will be a next life where everyone “good” will come together again and live (once again) happily. Whatever the reason, that reason is now void.

I used to fear dying without anyone knowing. I didn’t like the idea of someone finding my dead body after 5 years, not knowing whose body it is. That fear is closely linked to this other phobia I had; dying without everybody I know and/or who know me knowing. I had this plan in my head that before I died, I’d tell someone to let everyone who ever knew me know that I’d passed away. Just because I couldn’t stand the thought of people asking, “Hey, have you seen Sue-Anne lately? How’s she doing?” only to get the reply, “Oh, she’s dead.”

Horrible!

Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Does it matter? What matters?

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