I miss Mickey Rooney and Shirley Temple, I’m missing my Aunt Nita who just went to the other side as well. She was old enough at 86, but that’s never an excuse… Because I also miss people who weren’t old enough. And their place is empty and you notice it no matter how many things try to fill the voids left when people go. I miss my Great Grandmother & her sons who have gone on before her daughters. And I don’t want to be missing my Grandmother’s or my Grandfather and his brothers whose sister died Thursday night.
I don’t want my friends to lose their parents, I don’t want my cousins to be afraid of things, or of life or being sober or hospitals.
I don’t want young, young people to disappear unexpectedly, stories stopped before they seemed to begin…But maybe that was their story. Because everyone is supposed to have a different story.
A few days ago I wrote ;
“Losing someone you love is no picnic, it’s a formal meal whose courses just keep coming”
Then I changed it to say “losing something you love”, so it would be more general and so no one could turn around and die after I wrote it.
I don’t want to lose. and I know there’s this whole, “chance you take”, “price you pay” for love thing… Love is a risk, on and on, endlessly… With the greatest joy comes the greatest pain… all of this is what really happens. I don’t want to lose, we say it, I mean it. I feel like I’ve had a good run in this losing streak. I don’t need to keep running, nothing to prove. It hurts to love. We love, we let ourselves love, knowing we’ll lose it. I love, I’m losing it.
And we love anyway