Tunnels

Do you believe in astrology? That the tides of our lives are controlled by some force guided by the stars? Well I personally think the tides of my life are guided by something much greater than the stars, but I will admit that my horoscope has been oddly correct a number of times.
My point is this, is there some astrological reason for why so many people I know are hurting right now, my self included? I don't need to get into my own set of troubles, you can read my last post to gain an understanding of that. I have a friend who's friend recently killed himself. Another friend's grandfather passed away just last night. And another's father passed away a couple of weeks ago. The list seems to go on. Just turn on the evening news.
And I know that things like this happen all the time, but when they hit you between the eyes whether directly or indirectly, it's hard on the spirit. It's rough to know that not only are you going through hardship, but that a good majority of the people around you are feeling the same pain for one reason or another. Is this what growing up is like? Is this what we have to look forward to as we progress through the years? I remember when I would lay in my bed wondering what it would be like to loose a loved one. Not wishing, just wondering. Well now I know and I wish I didn't.
I wish things were simpler. And I know this isn't a ground breaking, original wish. It seems to be a common theme among adults. Things just get so screwed up as we get older. We get hurt, we build walls, we loose innocence and we loose what we thought we were. But I guess it's inevitable. There's a song by Jon Mclaughlin, intended for his children. It's all about the impotant lessons they need to learn, the ones that really matter. He says, "no one's intended to die, with their heart still intact." We're meant to go through these hard times. We are meant to get beaten down because that's the only way we can know what it feels like to come back. But when the world beats down on not only you but a good majority of the people you love, it's so hard to find the strength. It's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel that's promised to us. "Everything will turn out good in the end. If it's not good, it's not the end." Well great, so everything is going to suck until the end? I'm only 20, I have a lot more to go through.
I always fancied myself a strong person. But I'm coming to realize that that's all a lie. If I can't handle this, then I have a long rough road ahead of me.
I really don't know where I am going with all this. There's no clear organization and I didn't sit down with a common theme in mind. But that's just where my head is at right now. There's so much running around up there, so much to deal with, so much holding me down that it's hard to even put two complete ideas together.
I'm dealing with the death of my grandfather, I'm seeing so many people I love hurting, I'm dealing with my own inner demons of self worth, I'm seeing regret and denial and loss and guilt and anxiety and pain every day of my life.
But there's always that light at the end of the tunnel right? Well this is one long tunnel.

i just miss him, that's all

This room is cluttered.
Cluttered with distraction. Things to take my mind off of the fact that my grandpa's birthday would be wednesday and the very next day is thanksgiving.
I miss him.
I miss his hands the most. I miss feeling the aged wrinkles that come with a full life of love and experience.
I miss the smell of coffee in their house. I miss the way he would pray before each family meal. "And be it the nourishment of our bodies" he would always say. I being able to say "hi pa" and I miss hugging him goodbye. I never got to say goodbye.
Music helps, or it hurts. But it makes me remember. "Lullaby" by Billy Joel makes me cry now and "Winter" by Bayside is all too real. Our family is close, we love each other, we protect each other, we need each other, but most of all we need him. It's like we're all sharing the same dream and we'll wake up on Wednesday and he'll be home again, laughing at some Looney Tunes cartoon or watching a Cardinals game.
As a believer I know I'm supposed to take "solace" in the fact that he is in a better place now and he is home. I should be rejoicing they say. But I'm not. Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe my faith's not as strong as it should be, but I want him here with me now. I want him to bring me flowers at a piano recital again. I want to steal the croutons off the salad before it's brought to the table again. I want to dance with him at my wedding. I want my kids to know him and love him like I do. It's not fair that they will never know him. He will just be a face in a photograph and a character in a story.
So call me selfish, but it's what I want.
You think that you've gotten over it. You think that you've grieved. But grief is a silent enemy. It shows it face at first and then hides under your skin, fooling you into thinking you're fine. And then all of the sudden you can't stop crying again and nothing feels the same anymore. Nothing seems important, nothing seems real, nothing seems worth it. You think you're well adjusted, you think you have a handle on it, but really you're spiraling out of control and there's no one there to catch you.
I'm falling faster, and maybe I need to fall so I know I what it feels like to pick myself back up. I'm tired of picking myself back up. I'm tired of doing things alone. I'm tired of smiling all the time and I'm tired of pretending everything's fine. Well here it is, I am officially telling all of you in this virtual world of honesty that everything is not fine.
I just miss him, that's all.