Losing Life's Grip

Death is also very much alive

No one realizes that they are truly going to die and never walk this earth again until apart of them is gone.

After his death, I thought a lot about the properties of death and life. In life, you have many people around you just like in death but in life you don't know if people really like you or not. Life makes you wonder about everything and anything. Death is different. Death makes you stop wondering because now you know that nothing matters and you know the people are dead as well. Death makes you stop caring. I believe that a kind of death can happen while your alive. Sleep is a death. Swinging on a swing, acting like a child is a death. Depression is also a death. You simply stop caring.

My lively death was different. It was different. I cared more than ever. I cared about the beautiful face, the strong arms, the long legs, tanned abs and pink lips that meant everything to me were now withering away in the dirt. I cared that I had no plans for the future. I cared that no one understood me. I cared that no one 5 years from now will have the great pleasure of meeting Mitchell. I cared that the world would one day will cease to exist and everything will be gone. I cared too much about everything.

This was my last official summer for when fall comes I'll be a student at nyu. Yet here I was with my body shaken from nightmares, lifeless face no sign of life. "Kat.." my mom opened the door slowly. "Sweetheart, everyone's downstairs. His parents are here too." My mom thought that saying his name will make things better. "Mitch's parents. Mitch's parents. He's dead mom and that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve your respect by saying his name." My attitude has been off the chart lately, I couldn't help it. "I'm just trying to help." I knew that it was best to go so I, in an old lady sorta way, got out of bed. It was as if I had be in a coma for months.

It was hard to face the parents of the boy I was so in love with, still am. It was hard to face them because the last time I was around them for a long period was at Mitch's funeral. Before that he was alive and the house was filled with laughter. Now it seems to be cold like a winter night.

Mitchell's dad, John, hugged me, "Hello darling, head up," he whispered in my ear. He was always there for me. Mitchell's mom was different. She was timid and kept to herself. Lately she was more reserved. I looked at her and showed a sad smile. She looked as if she was serving, John must have pulled her out of bed for this.

I sat down at the table. The seat next to me was empty. That was something I had to get used to now. Being alone wasn't something I was prepared for. My imagination led me to believe that if I got maybe Mitch would be there for me. That wasn't true. That was also something I had to get used to. Something that I didn't want to get used to.

During dinner barely anyone talked. I bet they were expecting for someone to take Mitch's talkative place but no one dared to do so. I finally spoke up, "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, we will be okay." It was a lie on my part but at least I could make them smile.

After they left I got in my car and drove. I had no where to go but that was the beauty of it. I could drive anywhere without a purpose. I could live. I could be alive. I thought as I drove to no destination. Thinking of death like I've been a lot of. Death. Maybe life is death and death is life. Maybe he is more alive than me.