on life being too short

I have developed an obsession with writing. It has always been there, but before it was a release and now it is a necessity. Why is it the things we love the most become second, third and fourth in our lives? To think ideas flash through my mind constantly of things that need to be put to paper- to be put into a blog... yet school, work, social events slide into main priority. Time is so desperately needed to stand back and simply be...
alone.

To be lost in thought, to storm through emotion and to deal with issues hiding beneath it all. Issues that run through my mind, but stay clear of my tongue.

To think life can come crashing down in every direction but with one step I can stand above it all, look to the sun and smile. So far from sadness, but feeling so sad. So far from love, but feeling so loving- so in love with something or someone I can't seem to distinguish. Oh how a simple hug would pour tears for hours. A simple joke would create laughter for hours. A simple day to myself would be filled with hours, so nourishing. Hours of minutes filled with seconds passing by days and watching months go. When will I control time?

My watched died. And so did my cousin. She will be forever 19 years old. Diagnosed with cancer last year, a major scare we thought was taken care of when it was her mother that could provide the liver transplant. Such a long go with too many close calls. She was able to pull together again. She was able to be a teenager; have a boyfriend; go shopping; hang out with her friends; develop stronger relationships; get to know her family; and appreciate life for a bit.
And all in too little time.

It came back. The cancer. The disease looking for a friend. She was too good to let be and it wanted her attention. It got all of our attention. Why can't everyone just die in their sleep at old age? Is that just too simple?

I remember when I was 19. It wasn't too long ago, but it was a year I will never forget. Living on my own at university, I left Bright's Grove for the first time, ready to take on the world. Oh how I wanted to return to my bubble when I realised people actually had real issues out there. I drank away the work load and I drank away the dramas. I drank away the people abused, raped and suicidal. I drank away the aggressive boys and I drank my way into a relationship. I drank through a breakup and into a depression. I drank through loneliness and I just simply drank. I thought I knew it all, but I was so naive. I thought I had things all figured out, but really, I had no idea.

Two years from 19 and now I know I've got it all figured out. I really don't know anything. In fact, the more I think I know, the more I realise I simply have no idea.

I wonder if Nadia had it figured out.

I don't think she had the chance.

What does it take for us to realise life is too short? Do we discover it at the moment we see the light, have the opportunity to look back and see our life, and then turn back to walk towards the bright tunnel?
Do we recognise then that life is too short?

Do we finally get that spending that extra two minutes on the phone really doesn't matter to the 1,440 minutes in the day? Do we finally see that hearing the response to our question 'how are you?' really does have an impact on someone? Do we ever realise work is just part of life, it's not life? Do we ever understand the concept that life is too short for fighting, for holding grudges, or choosing to not talk to someone we actually love and care for? Do we ever make the things we love to do our priority, simply because it makes us happy?

Or do we just continue our lives, re-stating the fact that life is too short, but punish ourselves for stupid things- and worse, punish those we love? Will we always hate the job we go to? Always say we'll take a holiday next year? Will we keep making promises to do it tomorrow, and allow tomorrow to become yesterday?

Will we reach 19, thinking we've got it all figured out; living a life with dreams and goals and desires and wishes and an entire future to create... and will we die too?

Did we already die at 19?

We shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have had to.

But the strong girl...
she had no choice.


Written 18 October, 3:20am, my time