“Chunk”- By Tamara Lee
I should have…
I could have…
If I would have…
I have seen more lives end too soon than I would have liked to. And I’m a tough sell. My first loss was my mother and I do get it, every loss is different. Apart from the loss of a child to a mother, I just don’t think you can beat the loss of a parent to a child. It’s not a competition but I’m sorry when your grandma dies at 95- she lived a long life. And god bless her, but these things happen.
I like to think that I love too much. The thing about that is, that I’m very selective in who I love. Too much trouble is not good for me. Too much drama something I’m not comfortable with. Anything unhealthy makes me run.
When it comes to men, you can hurt me over and over again but it’s only a matter of time until I give up on you and forget you exist. The best you can hope for is that I forget ever had those type of feelings for you and let you be my friend.
But family is different.
And it’s probably because my family has hurt me more than anyone could have ever imagined or attempted to. I was the child no one wanted.
As a result, I detach myself for my own protection. I remove myself from anyone that can hurt me too much. Anyone who has a real biological connection to me. When your family is garbage, you remove yourself from the shit for your own protection. This is survival.
I believe we can remove people from our lives and ourselves from situations that don’t suit us. My world revolves around me. I made my world the way in which I like it. I allow in only who I want there. I leave behind anyone who disrupts my peace. It’s selfish and full of suck for those who love me and want to be part of my life. But if it weren’t for this practice, I feel that I too would be a dead drug addict, and I don’t even like drugs.
I say this to say that I’m battling myself between:
I should have.
I could have.
And
If I would have.
And:
There’s nothing I could have said or done that wasn’t done already.
Hindsight is always 20/20 and death is a tricky thing. It’s easy for the lost. You leave this life experience, but we are still here. The loss belongs to the living. Lying awake at night wishing you’d saved them is the hardest part and some battles just aren’t yours.
You can spit all the truth and drop all the gems you want, but at the end of the day someone who is determined to fail is going to get themselves to failure no matter how much you fight for them to win. I firmly believe that this is why rich kids who are sent to rehab over and over and over again, still fall victim to their addictions. And that no matter how many dollars you throw at a problem, it won’t disappear. This is why no matter how much you try to change someone’s perspective, ultimately, they will see a situation the way they want to see it. You can tell someone how many ways in which they have been blessed, how many things have turned out the right way for them, how many things that could have gone left for them have gone right. At the end of the day, if they want to see all flaws, failures and mishaps: they will.
And I’m going to keep telling myself this until I can sleep again. Because despite how logical and smart I think I am, I still wish I would have.