Death... and life
Yesterday was one of the more emotionally draining days I've had in a long time. I'd hardly slept the night before because my head was filled with CS, whom I'd seen on the preceding Sunday evening and could not stop thinking about, and so I was really tired when I got up. True to my usual routine, I checked my e-mails over breakfast and found one from the national park where I applied for work this summer. It said that I was welcome to work for them, but sadly one of my colleagues had died only a week before of a heart attack.
Now, I thankfully haven't really been exposed to death that much in my life, so when somebody I know dies, that's a big thing to me. A big, bad, dark thing that makes me sad and confused. Am I allowed to cry? Should I feel glad to be alive even though it's painful? Is it indecent to still be kind of happy I got the job? Does the impending doom of my essays still matter? Do my hormones matter?
Either way, it somehow made me think "well, fuck it - life is short", and I called CS and left a weird, stuttering little message on his voice mail telling him I wanted to get to know him better and would he be interested in having coffee with me sometime. And later that night - lo and behold! - he actually called me back and said that he did. He wanted to see me. Someone I like wants to see me...
So now we're going for coffee tomorrow. Because somebody died. For better or for worse, life really does go on without you. Without pause or reflection. Relentlessly. Always.
Now, I thankfully haven't really been exposed to death that much in my life, so when somebody I know dies, that's a big thing to me. A big, bad, dark thing that makes me sad and confused. Am I allowed to cry? Should I feel glad to be alive even though it's painful? Is it indecent to still be kind of happy I got the job? Does the impending doom of my essays still matter? Do my hormones matter?
Either way, it somehow made me think "well, fuck it - life is short", and I called CS and left a weird, stuttering little message on his voice mail telling him I wanted to get to know him better and would he be interested in having coffee with me sometime. And later that night - lo and behold! - he actually called me back and said that he did. He wanted to see me. Someone I like wants to see me...
So now we're going for coffee tomorrow. Because somebody died. For better or for worse, life really does go on without you. Without pause or reflection. Relentlessly. Always.