the everyday tragic

You lose people.

sometimes to death

and other times not.

You lose them in coffee shops

and through telephone wires

and sometimes

you even lose them in bed.

You lose people

before they even know it,

at times you can even lose them

in the most ordinary moments-

the walk to the store,

the deposit at the bank,

the shower you take before bed.

You lose people.

Some may even lose one every day.

But the ones worth keeping

will always find their way back to you

somehow.

You lose people.

But sometimes when you lose someone

you also find yourself.

Loss can be a win

if you let it.

You lose people

and other times,

people lose you.

and so it goes, round and round,

losing and winning

join forces

and in the end

the only thing that matters

is that you don’t ever

lose yourself.

 

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What type of warrior are you?

Another dagger in the heart

You’d think by now that 

I’d have learned how 

to use my shield,

how to wield my sword…

Guess I’m just not

the type of warrior 

who fights off love. 

An Ordinary Sunday

I’ve been thinking a lot about the ordinary days, the ordinary moments when in a millisecond, everything we know and hold dear changes.

It’s Sunday, September 13th, 2015 at around 6 pm. I’m in the backseat with one of my friends, coming home from dinner and planning to head out again to a brewery for a couple of pints of a limited release brew

and then…

He’s passed away, his best friend said from the other end of the line

I couldn’t breathe. I remember clutching my heart in some irrational attempt to try and hold the pieces together. It could only be because my heart understood then what my head couldn’t: he was gone. Dead. The word was too strong for his friend to say, but I understood what he meant.

Or rather, at least my heart did.

It made no sense but explained everything then- the unanswered calls and texts over the last few days, the plans for the weekend he never got to make with me… That wasn’t like him.

It wasn’t like him to drop dead either.

just an ordinary Sunday 

an ordinary day in the Fall

Life changes in an instant and it’s gone just as fast, too. I’m not sure what’s more terrifying to me now- the fragility of life or the destruction of death.

Paul has passed away, he said

And I stood outside under the falling leaves, clutching whoever and whatever I could as I tried to hold on to any sense of reality left in my world.

Just an ordinary Sunday

an ordinary day in the Fall