from "Lost & Levi" by Ambeka Lutchman
Jan. (3rd week) ‘15
It has definitely been a long time since I’ve seen Levi-- I miss him so much. I keep being reminded of him more and more each day. He is everywhere-- in my class, the halls that I walk through in school, at the Hall, in my house, in the fields.
In my head.
In my heart.
It has been torn so much in my once-fragile life that you’d think I’d be used to it, but no. I have been slapped by painful words, kicked in the shin by regret, punched in the gut by hatred, but never have I had all of that happen so much in such little time. This has stabbed me right through my heart, my hardened yet big heart, and it had a bleeding gash. Now there is a huge scar slashed across my itty-bitty-feeling heart. This poor heart of mine has been scarred so many times that it feels nothing now. I love people infinitely, then I am wrecked. I get stitched into other people’s lives, then they are torn from me. They are left with a tiny paper-cut, whereas I am left to bleed alive. Levi didn’t mean to do any of this, I know, but it happened. Now I am yet again trying to heal from another battle-scar. My heart has learned to accept hatred, and pain-causing words, and regretting decisions, but never will I ever accept the grief that comes with missing someone. People have been snatched away from me, and sometimes that makes hatred pour out of me. But really, that is grief trying to accept the pain, the mistakes, the lies, the truth.
Nobody can get used to grief.
I love people. They will hurt you, whether by accident or on purpose, but it will happen. No matter how much pain our fragile hearts may undergo, there will always be a nefarious thing waiting to devour its next victim: Grief.
Our hearts could bleed until it’s transparent, but that will be constant. There will be constant pain in a world like this. I am surprised my heart is still viable and hasn’t given up. That is me-- life can push me, shove me, hate me, or love me, but I will not give up this life. I hope nobody would. Life cannot make me take my life, because it is mine. I control my life. You control yours. We can only live our lives the best that we can, not the most. The best life would be one without pain and sorrow, but sadly we can’t have that now. The most we can do is live our lives the way we want-- it is our choice. Levi did that; it was his choice. He loved people, too. Apparently loving them so much that when he was torn away from his stitched-in family, he was scarred. He didn’t feel something when he left us, because his scar left him stoic. He was faceless. Emotionless.
He might look back at his decisions and feel regret, and pain, maybe even hatred of himself. That could be why he hasn’t come back:
His hatred toward himself and his regretful choices may have left him no choice but to feel embarrassed about it all. I know how he feels.
Jan. (3rd week) ‘15
It has definitely been a long time since I’ve seen Levi-- I miss him so much. I keep being reminded of him more and more each day. He is everywhere-- in my class, the halls that I walk through in school, at the Hall, in my house, in the fields.
In my head.
In my heart.
It has been torn so much in my once-fragile life that you’d think I’d be used to it, but no. I have been slapped by painful words, kicked in the shin by regret, punched in the gut by hatred, but never have I had all of that happen so much in such little time. This has stabbed me right through my heart, my hardened yet big heart, and it had a bleeding gash. Now there is a huge scar slashed across my itty-bitty-feeling heart. This poor heart of mine has been scarred so many times that it feels nothing now. I love people infinitely, then I am wrecked. I get stitched into other people’s lives, then they are torn from me. They are left with a tiny paper-cut, whereas I am left to bleed alive. Levi didn’t mean to do any of this, I know, but it happened. Now I am yet again trying to heal from another battle-scar. My heart has learned to accept hatred, and pain-causing words, and regretting decisions, but never will I ever accept the grief that comes with missing someone. People have been snatched away from me, and sometimes that makes hatred pour out of me. But really, that is grief trying to accept the pain, the mistakes, the lies, the truth.
Nobody can get used to grief.
I love people. They will hurt you, whether by accident or on purpose, but it will happen. No matter how much pain our fragile hearts may undergo, there will always be a nefarious thing waiting to devour its next victim: Grief.
Our hearts could bleed until it’s transparent, but that will be constant. There will be constant pain in a world like this. I am surprised my heart is still viable and hasn’t given up. That is me-- life can push me, shove me, hate me, or love me, but I will not give up this life. I hope nobody would. Life cannot make me take my life, because it is mine. I control my life. You control yours. We can only live our lives the best that we can, not the most. The best life would be one without pain and sorrow, but sadly we can’t have that now. The most we can do is live our lives the way we want-- it is our choice. Levi did that; it was his choice. He loved people, too. Apparently loving them so much that when he was torn away from his stitched-in family, he was scarred. He didn’t feel something when he left us, because his scar left him stoic. He was faceless. Emotionless.
He might look back at his decisions and feel regret, and pain, maybe even hatred of himself. That could be why he hasn’t come back:
His hatred toward himself and his regretful choices may have left him no choice but to feel embarrassed about it all. I know how he feels.