I'm sad. I feel bad for feeling sad. Stupid, really. It's all about that very famous actor who died at 28, all alone, who I never knew, who I can't even say I was an amazing fan of. Just that he is gone and I know all about the Afterness.
While all so much is speculated about his death, who knew what and when, all I can think is... for his family... it all starts now. Their hearts will be heavy and filled with regret and sorrow and questions and regret and regret and regret.
Everything is all right and then there is that phone call and you are never the same again. In ways people can never describe. You feel different, things look different and you feel like you physically packed up and moved away from the person you once were.
And the internet is a monster that will tell you details that you will never want to know and can be the gap between two mountains that widens so you can never jump to a healing place. I learned the hard way, you do not google the details of your loved ones death. You do not want to hear a witness say they never saw so much blood in their life.
I know I'm not grieving this person's death, I do not know him. I am grieving the parts of my cousin's death that I have packed up in a box and tucked under the bed. Then when someone else dies, same age, circumstances that make no sense at all, it's like all those bits of grief and suffering emanate from the box and once again, the house is haunted.
But his family... that tears me apart.
