Sometimes, something awful happens. A truly terrible thing. You drop to your knees shaking. All you can think is, “No,” because it’s impossible. How could this have happened? Then it settles in that it is possible. You wonder, “Why hasn’t anyone else stopped? Why are people still going about their daily lives? The whole world should have stopped spinning. Life can’t go on.”
But it does. It shouldn’t. It sure as Hell shouldn’t, and it feels so wrong. Yet it does. The clock keeps ticking seconds away without them. You wonder how you could ever do anything the same way again. You cry yourself raw, and soon you can’t even shed a tear properly. You mourn in a frozen, numb life.
But you will heal. Eventually, you find yourself smiling again. You laugh a hollow laugh, and you remember how good it felt. It feels wrong at first, but then it gets loads better. You still have the scars, but they stopped bleeding, and have faded to a mere tattoo on your life. It feels like it shouldn’t be right, but it is.
Time will heal. It is rough, and it is a difficult, long process, that will never make the scars completely go away. But it is inevitable. Time is inevitable. Death is inevitable. But love seeps through the cracks.
The earth will always keep spinning. Time will always pass us by. Life goes on. I hate the fact that it does. It irks me to know that I have to admit it is a good thing. Life goes on, but above all, it is a good thing.
Death may be inevitable, but it is love that conquers all. You may not think so. How can love conquer death? If it did, no one would die. But death, like time, will always happen. No, the true conquering is that love still exists, even as death rips the person from us.
Love isn’t turned off like a faucet. When the person dies, you still love them. They still love you. Now, try to fathom that for a second. The person still loves you, even though they are dead. It doesn’t matter if you practice some sort of religion, lack thereof, or belief in any type of afterlife. You would be foolish to deny love as a beautiful and powerful thing. It took me a long time to realize it, but they still love you, whether they are dead or not. Love is immortal.
Honestly, I used to see, “the meaning of life,” as a mysterious, yet silly question. I still see it as a silly question, but now merely because I see the answer as so obvious now. I’ve said it already. Almost every song in existence has some sort of basis of it. Novels, movies, everything has it. When a death occurs, you are told to remember the good things, and be thankful for the time you had with them to experience it. Think, when are you your happiest? When you’re doing something you love, and when you are with people you love. Love. Love. Love. Love is the answer! Love is why we’re here, why we live, why we are happy, and finally, why we die and keep living.
A lack of love is why people kill themselves.
A lack of love is what causes problems.
So pass on the love. Pass on the new, remember the old, and cherish the love you shared once with a lost one. Know that it is still there, and know that even death and time cannot shatter it, no matter how hard they try.
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