Shi: Full Circle Sorrow. Musing on character deaths.
While death in any form is hard to bear, whether it is someone close to you, such as a friend or family member, or even a beloved family pet you've had for years, what puzzles and yet, in a morbid way, fascinates me, is the strangely intimate nature between a character, or a muse, and their writers and muns. They are like children. We bring them into this world for whatever reason--sometimes, we don't even know they're there--they just appear one day fully formed and demanding that we care for them, pay attention to them. We grow to love them for who and what they are. They, in some ways, become an essential part of ourselves. They aren't us--we aren't them. They exist nowhere but in our minds, and yet---it hurts so very badly when they leave us.
Sometimes, it's simply because we outgrow them, or vise versa. Sometimes we just can't hear their unique voices any longer, and they fade, for us to look back fondly on, reading over logs or stories and smiling in wistful, but happy, ways. Sometimes--for whatever reason, they die. Their voice doesn't gradually fade, but suddenly. All too suddenly. The sorrow we feel for them--like they're real...where does it come from? If they exist only in our heads, why do we mourn them as we would a trusted friend or a beloved family member? Maybe because by allowing them to mean so much to us--by bringing them into this world, they become real to us, in a sense. They take on a life and a will and a heart of our own. Their thoughts, beliefs, likes, dislikes--are all their own.
Like children. Our children. Why does it hurt so much when they die? Because we love them. It's that simple and yet that complicated. We love them so much that sometimes we don't realize it until something like that happens to test how much they matter to us. It is one of the most horrifying, worst feelings in the world to lose a character. To hear them just fall abruptly silent. Even if it's hypothetical in a fic, or because you yourself have a hand in it.
It's even worse when you have no choice. When a muse or character just gives you no choice or control over it. When they make the decision to die. To leave you. They leave an empty, gaping hole in your heart that can't easily be replaced by another. Because you know, you know the way only a parent of sorts could, that there will never, ever, be another like them. No matter how many others are birthed into existence. There will never be anyone who can replace them. You find yourself mourning them at the oddest of times. You find yourself desperately wanting them back, just as if they were flesh and blood.
You can't explain why it hurts so much to people who don't understand that connection. You get odd looks, faux sympathy. In some cases, you cry for hours, days, weeks on end. You cry yourself to sleep in other cases. You aren't sure yourself where this overwhelming ache is coming from, but you do know that you've shared so much with them--been through so much with them, been with them every step of the way in their lives...and it's a slap in the face when they remove themselves from you so utterly.
Maybe I sound like a raving lunatic. But they truly are independent of us, the mun--the writer, I believe. So it's very hard when we have to make our personal goodbyes, no matter what the reason is.
But as long as we remember them, they won't fade from our hearts.
They will never fail to mean something, even when they're gone. Just as with real people, they should be celebrated for who they were and what they meant to us.
They will always, after all, be a part of us.
Love them for who they are.
And if you must let go.
Who they were to you.
Even though it hurts--they meant something once. And always will.
Sometimes, it's simply because we outgrow them, or vise versa. Sometimes we just can't hear their unique voices any longer, and they fade, for us to look back fondly on, reading over logs or stories and smiling in wistful, but happy, ways. Sometimes--for whatever reason, they die. Their voice doesn't gradually fade, but suddenly. All too suddenly. The sorrow we feel for them--like they're real...where does it come from? If they exist only in our heads, why do we mourn them as we would a trusted friend or a beloved family member? Maybe because by allowing them to mean so much to us--by bringing them into this world, they become real to us, in a sense. They take on a life and a will and a heart of our own. Their thoughts, beliefs, likes, dislikes--are all their own.
Like children. Our children. Why does it hurt so much when they die? Because we love them. It's that simple and yet that complicated. We love them so much that sometimes we don't realize it until something like that happens to test how much they matter to us. It is one of the most horrifying, worst feelings in the world to lose a character. To hear them just fall abruptly silent. Even if it's hypothetical in a fic, or because you yourself have a hand in it.
It's even worse when you have no choice. When a muse or character just gives you no choice or control over it. When they make the decision to die. To leave you. They leave an empty, gaping hole in your heart that can't easily be replaced by another. Because you know, you know the way only a parent of sorts could, that there will never, ever, be another like them. No matter how many others are birthed into existence. There will never be anyone who can replace them. You find yourself mourning them at the oddest of times. You find yourself desperately wanting them back, just as if they were flesh and blood.
You can't explain why it hurts so much to people who don't understand that connection. You get odd looks, faux sympathy. In some cases, you cry for hours, days, weeks on end. You cry yourself to sleep in other cases. You aren't sure yourself where this overwhelming ache is coming from, but you do know that you've shared so much with them--been through so much with them, been with them every step of the way in their lives...and it's a slap in the face when they remove themselves from you so utterly.
Maybe I sound like a raving lunatic. But they truly are independent of us, the mun--the writer, I believe. So it's very hard when we have to make our personal goodbyes, no matter what the reason is.
But as long as we remember them, they won't fade from our hearts.
They will never fail to mean something, even when they're gone. Just as with real people, they should be celebrated for who they were and what they meant to us.
They will always, after all, be a part of us.
Love them for who they are.
And if you must let go.
Who they were to you.
Even though it hurts--they meant something once. And always will.