Who amongst us hasn't lost someone dear? I find loss a natural aspect each of us lives at one or more periods of his existence. People handle loss and moving-on differently.
But what must be worse than losing a beloved one to death or suicide, is the inability to regain a normal life. Not necessarily a happy one but a "normal" life. A life where you walk in the streets, looking at the stores and coffee shops and restaurants, without recalling the day you spent shopping together for that special event or the morning you had brunch in that restaurant where you shared laughs about a silly hat another customer wore. Or remembering a deep secret they kept with you and only you, even though no surroundings remind you of it, but you remember it anyway.
You lie in your bed, after a long day of human interactions and fake smiles, crying silently and wishing they were there. Asking why and asking God for some help. You keep questioning the existence of a so-called normal life after your loss, and whether you we are eligible for it. Any cheerful thought invading your mind for even a fraction of a second turns into an hour of guilt: "I don't deserve to be happy." and "How can I allow myself to feel okay when he's not here beside me?".
Others expect you to be miserable after a beloved one's death. You seem to disappoint them if you show the least happiness possible. Extremely nosy ones will talk behind your back, the ugliest words, "How could she be this happy after his death", "I thought she loved him" and "She has no heart"...
Do the dead want us to remember them for ever? Are they expecting to be forgotten after a short or long time? Is it a must to forget someone to be able to move on with your life?
Accepting a death and occasionally remembering the person with a warm smile seems science-fiction at first, but I guess everyone achieves this peaceful state at some point or another. The important thing is to not shame someone for moving on quicker than the rest. If you're miserable, stop trying to drag people around you too.
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