Death is the last thing I would ever know to handle. Who does anyways? Ever since I've experienced it, life has never been the same. I could still damn remember how I was loudly whispering in the ER, "I believe in miracles", saying it one million times, expecting that the lifeline would change and a cough or jerk would happen. My heart still jumps out of my chest whenever I remember that moment.
3 months and not a day goes by without me yearning for her. She was so damn beautiful. Always have been, always will. I saw greatness and lived with it everyday. And guess what? There is no greatness without a hint of insanity. You would need to be partly insane to make great things happen. She always drove me nuts, but it always came with jaw dropping brilliance as well. Beauty & Brains are the deadliest weapons of all time.
I hate heroes dying, but they do. Even Jesus did. The question would always be, what happens to life after death? Her life, and ours. That crappy word called "cope", wow! It is what it is. She would always tell me "Life is fair. We all have 24 hours in a day. It is up to us to use it". Well, I've been coping with my hours. My 24 fair hours have been traded to tweeeentyfoooourhooours stretched to its maximum potential. Every word she spoke, every smile she gave, and every memory she lent me, I damn love. I did not get anywhere with this, and I probably won't. One thing's for sure though, you'll go through it too. Other's and your's. You'll find yourself talking to yourself and trying to make sense while coming up with plenty of non-sense. Ay! There's the rub ika nga.
