To leave or not to leave...that was apparently never the question.

Like time-kissed photographs enveloped in sepia tones, there are memories drenched in yesterdays that lurk in the crevices of my cerebrum. A fellow flogger recently experienced the unfortunate passing of a dear friend, someone who made the choice to seek a tomorrow that transcends our reality. And as if on cue, my mind flipped back the calendar to the day that we got home and realized that one of our family friends lost her son to the evil that lurked in the ravine by our condo in the sheltered ‘burbs. Ironic wouldn’t you say? In the quiet of a well pruned area hung a boy – an artists rendition of celestial irony.

It was such an emotionally horrendous experience for everyone involved. I mean, us girls, exchanged knowing looks – fully aware of the darkness that used to scare the living daylights out of us on our walks to school.

Beautiful yet alarmingly quiet. That’s where everything horrendous went down. From dirty ole perv’s who dropped their pants at the mere sighting of a barely grown child, to angry bums who screamed their ailments at the top of their voices sucking back bottles of rye – this ravine was the breeding ground for the unwanted, the irrelevant and the creepy that lived amongst the seemingly well to do crowds. And that’s where it happened.

This kid, barely 18, strategically planned his exit. The cops found internet files detailing painless ways to kiss the angel of death – he must have sifted through his options before he decided to settle on an innocent birch. That night, its branches were bubblewrapped in infamy. Countless search parties, highlighter yellow caution tape, news crews – they all took their turn tumbling through the often “oohd and ahhhd” ravine. Nature, on man’s urging, had taken a life by simply being available. See idle branches, much like idle minds, is no mans friend.

I cried for what felt like days, although I’m certain that it was mere minutes elongated by the hands of a generous clock. Survived by hard working parents who didn’t understand and two sisters who couldn’t understand, he wrote his exit line and pulled the curtains shut – largely unconcerned about his fellow cast members or the audience he left behind.

And cue to the Applause.

You see, that’s always made me wonder one thing: How do you leave, forever, without looking back at the ones that complete you? Forever – understand that this means – today, tomorrow and for the rest of your existence.

The thought of my loved ones interacting with Yama, dancing to his exit tune, kissing the blue tinged lips of the god that rides a bull – heck, it scares the living daylights out of me. Yes I know I’ll survive. Yes I know I’ll be strong. I’ll have friends to hold my hand, walk me through, lend me a shoulder – but, when dusk hits and I’m left alone with haunting thoughts…will any of that matter? Can anything ease the pain of knowing that they won’t be there when you wake up the next morning.

With my own brand of bravado, I always tell myself that things will be fine. Regardless of whose alive and whose not – my life will go on because my dad has raised a daughter who can stand on her own two feet. That I will hold my head up high, march to the tune of my own drummer and survive. And yet, even before the words leave my lips and touches the air that transports it, tears of lead begin to form.

I used to live in fear once that I’d lose someone in my life that meant more to me that I cared to admit. I used to check up on her by standing in her doorway and waiting to see her chest heave signaling her stay in my world. I used to hide sharp objects, diligently watch my words, pray on a daily basis that she wouldn’t be so selfish as to tear my parivar apart and then…something happened. I woke up one morning and realized that I had stopped caring. Not about her – never about her. But, I’d stopped caring about the threat of impending death. How does that cliché go…a dog that barks..never…yeah, you get it. I didn’t care anymore because a part of me expected it and a part of me believed it would never happen.

A throbbing numbness. I was so numb with the constant threat of departure, that I had steeled myself against feeling anything. And that became the fear that chased me – I wonder if matadors feel this way when the bull flips the script, takes control and chases them up and down the stadium….

My seemingly numb emotional state has come to terms with the fact that I can’t beg people to stay. Heck, on a good day, I can’t even get the people I love to understand my point of view and move in the same direction. Things like this scare me but, what scares me more is my ability to move past it and forget the hurt.

I had. It was erased. Completely so. Until my flogfriend shared her experience and unleased tsunami-like waves that reeked of this other weather beaten story. I’ve always had this great propensity for getting over things on the outside– quickly, easily, efficiently.

Sometimes, there’s nothing we can do to alter the outcome of an equation. Sometimes, regardless of how much we pray, how much we hope, wish, and stand on our heads – things will play out the way they were meant to be. And that my dear friends, is scary in and of itself.

A pointless post. Yet, I feel wonderfully relieved and unburdened.

Now if only everything in life came with an easy aside.