We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Friday, 16 September 2011

Innocence Misunderstood

Jigger came home for a little while this morning and then left again to go to the funeral. While he was here I was asking him what had happened. If his friend had been sick and things like that. He was telling me all about it. Then he was telling me about his friend's 5 year old daughter.

He said she was so excited to have so many people there. All of her family and friends. She was running around playing and kept asking "why you so sad" to her mom and uncles. He said for him that was the hardest part. Watching her and her complete unknowing that her father won't be home from work tonight or ever again. He said he felt so heart broken for her because now she is so happy but soon her world is going to change and she won't even understand why.

I could see so much of myself in that little girl. I could see her future. Her emptiness. The hole that will grow inside of her as she grows and she won't even understand why the hole is there. But she'll know it's there. She'll try to fill it with odds and ends that don't quite properly fit, but no matter what she does that hole will remain. Until either she surrenders and accepts it as a part of her or it consumes her and she disappears inside of it.

There is also a two year old who'll grow up never knowing what an amazing father he had. Never knowing that which he lost. It seems such a waste. Three young children fatherless. One minute he was totally fine and the next erased. 

Jigger was going to help him in his business. Some advertising and things for him, but now that'll forever remain unfinished. It's strange how yesterday the world was one color but today it is another. Spinning and turning on while we sit. Helplessly being tossed about where it sees fit. Passengers on an unwanted journey. Stopping at destinations that are not our own. I'm ready to get off now. 

This is my stop.

1 comment:

Aimee said...

Passengers on an unwanted journey. I love that. I have felt that. I've felt the hole and all the blackness inside of it. I know the feeling of having a part of your body cut off, a missing piece in a box in the ground. It never goes away. It dulls a bit with life, but always remains.


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