Death in the family always strikes a chord in even the most hardened of souls. He lived a good life, and although he was a doctor's nightmare, he managed to go through every day very much acting like his jovial self. He stepped on many toes and stomped on many feet, but at the time of his demise, he had his entire family by his side, standing by him, supporting him as he breathed his last breath. His funeral went on smoothly, and turnout for subsequent prayer sessions was purely amazing. Though not many would have wanted his life, I'm pretty certain that there is no better way to pass on, then to be where he was, loved and supported.
Right now, I envy him. I envy not his position deep in his grave, but I envy the attention he received, even though it came too late. I envy the fact that although he was far from perfect, he had a wife that doted on him, and family that cared. I envy the thick and thin that he and his friends have gone through, and I especially envy the privellege of the good, honest and loyal company that he kept.
Day by day, I am turning into the loner that I didn't want to become. It has come to a point that not one of the persons that have crossed my crooked path can truly be depended upon. When it comes to the crunch, I seriously wonder who'd be there sticking by me, covering my back. When I am in the crunch that I am in now, I can't help feeling like the battle is mine to fight alone. I've become tired of companionship, tired of the work that has to be put in it. I've become weary of obliging and broken from giving in. I want to give up.
I try to be the person that I want to be, but I only end up wearing a mask that hides my feelings. I don't know how much longer the pretense will last, nor how much longer this facade will hold, before the glaring sadness in my eyes crumbles it all. I know for certain that a lonely death would be the only befitting ending to my drifting faith. I fear that. But more importantly, I fear living a lonely life. Friends and family will always be around me, but inside me, I am in darkness, in solitude.
Right now, I envy him. I envy not his position deep in his grave, but I envy the attention he received, even though it came too late. I envy the fact that although he was far from perfect, he had a wife that doted on him, and family that cared. I envy the thick and thin that he and his friends have gone through, and I especially envy the privellege of the good, honest and loyal company that he kept.
Day by day, I am turning into the loner that I didn't want to become. It has come to a point that not one of the persons that have crossed my crooked path can truly be depended upon. When it comes to the crunch, I seriously wonder who'd be there sticking by me, covering my back. When I am in the crunch that I am in now, I can't help feeling like the battle is mine to fight alone. I've become tired of companionship, tired of the work that has to be put in it. I've become weary of obliging and broken from giving in. I want to give up.
I try to be the person that I want to be, but I only end up wearing a mask that hides my feelings. I don't know how much longer the pretense will last, nor how much longer this facade will hold, before the glaring sadness in my eyes crumbles it all. I know for certain that a lonely death would be the only befitting ending to my drifting faith. I fear that. But more importantly, I fear living a lonely life. Friends and family will always be around me, but inside me, I am in darkness, in solitude.
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