“I suspend my sorrow (yeah-ahnna,) …sorrow…”
Posted April 27th, 2014 at 6:05 PM by Alexander Nicholi
I’ve often wondered this. It’s been in the back of my mind since I was four years old, when my aunt Clara Jeanne Rose died from an anneurism. It has never entered the forefront of my mind until my uncle Joey Rose committed suicide; up until then it had just been natural deaths of age. People have told me all throughout my life that I'm supposed to be something special, something of a prodigy, and regardless of the validity of those claims in my mind or anyone else’s, even if it’s true, and that I’m “destined to do something great” (which I find a little much), where is the redemption in such an endeavor when every soul you try to share it with dies? You want to take the great thing you’ve obtained and split it right down the middle with a loved one, but before you can ever even start at it they drop dead. What’s the point of me doing wonderful things if I’m doomed to hold it all alone in a cold selfish sorrow? As much as I’d like to enlighten someone or something, I find it rather depressing overall that I end up being the only one left with it… the only one who worked for it ends up being the only one to reap the benefits. I want to take my achievements and bestow them upon someone I deeply care about, but I can’t do that when I have not even begun to help them with their issues enough to prevent them from killing themselves… and what kind of deal is that? How could I ever hope to take someone with me on this hypothetical “ride” if it is futile to bring them along without that permanent stain of sorrow being spilled onto the part of my soul I opened up to them?
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