There's a great deal of coming and going in life.
Because life is temporary.
Pain comes and goes, and so does happiness.
Sometimes, the euphoria lasts briefly, nudging its ominous presence like a moth to a flame, and sometimes, my grief of losing my sister and one of my brothers at a fairly young age ebbs and flows like an ocean in my life, like an uninvited guest. I briefly resented my euphoria in bygone days because of its fleeting nature, like a mirage in the arresting horizons of the deserts. Anger brought its stool in my heart until I learned of its true name, grief.
I became cruel, somehow. It's not because of something I did, but because of something I didn't do.
I didn't ask for help, support, or even for a morsel of love in my life.
I became cruel at the hospital when my sister died in front of my eyes and shouted at the doctors and nurses to do something to bring her back to life and looked at my mother and asked her, "What do you mean?" when she calmly told me my sister's gone. I was still processing everything, and I was in shock.
I didn't thank the doctors and the nurses for the best efforts they've shown for my sister's life.
I'm learning to forgive myself for the things I can't forgive myself for.
And one of my brother's death will always be the most painful memory in my life.
But at least I don't numb the pain anymore. I don't run away from my emotions anymore.
I don't run away anymore, and I will stay.
There's room in my soul, and rest assured that both of them will always be in the right places in my heart, so we're never far apart.