Saturday, November 9, 2013

The Meaning of Life

                                               What Life Really Means
                                                          by Wilbur Witt

     I see young people starting relationships all the time. It almost always begins the same way, with the physical. They latch onto each other and think they bond, and they think that bond is unbreakable. It isn't. That bond is like rubber cement. It seems good but it can stretch, and even break. When such relationships deteriorate in the first year or two, sometimes in a month or two, what's left is not heartbreak, it's usually rage. Rage brought on by betrayal. The idea that someone you trusted would betray you sets off thoughts of anger and revenge. 

     The relationship that survives time is the one that moves beyond the physical and becomes something else. And you never realize it until the day comes when that person is taken from you. It's at that terrible moment you realize that the world no longer has a place for you. You come to understand that half of you is already gone, and try as you may you will never fill the emptiness, never come back to that place in your life. Your life is over. 

     You are but a shell, and the only person who would, who could understand is no longer there. You are utterly alone. And all this talk about remember the good times is hogwash. That only brings more pain. It would be better if you had dementia and could remember nothing at all. 

     Life is cruel. We are designed to break down. And try as you will you will not make a single mark on the world save that one mark you made on that one heart and now that heart has stopped. Friends and family will tell you that you will survive. They will try to line you up with someone but they don't understand. If you find someone else it somehow cheapens what you lost. Like buying a new puppy when the old dog dies. You, and only you know that you will never recover that interpersonal relationship again, indeed, there are some things you should not survive. We weren't designed to survive those things. 

     You go on through life and everyone thinks you adapted. They think you reconciled and only you know that you're just counting time until the end, and one of two things will be waiting on the other side. Either the theists are right, and you will see each other again, or it will be blessed oblivion. No memories, no pain, and all that you dreamed together will be gone forever. 

     Then, you find yourself in a park one day, feeding the squirrels, because that's what old people do, and you see a young couple holding hands, and you think, "If they knew. If they only knew."

No comments:

Post a Comment