View Full Version : You Live, You Love, You Lose

05-27-2002, 03:25 AM
I think this is the right place to put it, I'm not too sure... It's about damn time I got this off my chest; it's something I haven't really talked to anyone here about... but if I get anyone pouring sympathy on me, I'm gonna delete this thread straight away, this isn't about me, it's about YOU...

I grew up as a child in a small place called Langley. I wasn’t born there, but almost as far back as I can remember I've lived there. One of my earliest memories was of my mum taking me to a nursery school, to see what this one was like for just one day. We were walking down the path on the cold day, holding hands as we made our way towards the building. I remember I was wearing my Wellington boots, big thick soles so I could go jumping about and squashing things in them. We were walking down that path and every time I put my right boot down, I heard a strange crunching noise. After a few steps of this, I stopped, my mum stopping as well when she noticed the tug on her arm. She turned to look at me as I lifted up my leg, staring at the sole of my boots. On it was a dead bird, a small one, surely no more than a few months old. Somehow I had stepped on it without realising, squeezing the life from its frail frame. Every step I had taken crushed the bones in its body just that little bit more. There wasn't much left of it, a mess of pink guts and brown, downy feathers stuck to the bottom of my boot. Nearly fifteen years later and I swear blind I've never been near that place again, the place where I first experienced death. What surprises me now when I look back on that moment is that I didn't cry or feel remorse at its death, it was just something that had happened. This is something that's always stuck with me; death happens to everyone, it's just a question of when. How doesn't matter, just the fact it comes to us all is the important thing. How foolish I was in my youth.

The same goes for the funerals of my grandparents, my mothers parents. Each one, I remember sitting there at the front, holding my mothers hand. Not because I wanted to comfort her, because she didn't want me wandering off in boredom, which in all truthfulness, I would have done. It strikes me as strange I don't even remember her crying at all about it, she just accepted their deaths and moved on...

No-one knows this, I've never told anyone about this before... I was the one who discovered my grandfather's body. I'd been in a fight with my brother earlier that day and I was really upset. In usual pre-teen behaviour, I tried to run away from home. The only place I knew where I would be safe was at my grandparents... I'd caught a bus there and had walked quite a fair distance before getting there. When I knocked on the door, I didn't get any reply. I was confused because I knew that he was in... it was a Tuesday, his Bridge club met on Wednesday and his Cribbage club was on Friday evenings, on Tuesday he was free... Perplexed, I went around the back and tried the back door, but that was locked which in itself was unusual, not that it really mattered. I knew for certain that his bedroom window would be open, it always was. When I used to play catch with my brother there, we would always start off there, While he counted, I'd run out of the door, closing it loudly so he heard it. Then I'd run out into the back garden and climb up the apple tree and drop onto the roof. I'd hide just outside the open window and wait until my brother ran from the room, searching for me. Then I'd climb through the window and hide somewhere upstairs when I heard him go downstairs. This is what I did that day but the bedroom wasn't empty as it usually was when I got in there. My grandfather was lying in his bed, all curled up. There was a strange smell to the room and I didn't know what it was. I later found out it's the smell a dead person gives off when they've been left in a hot room for a few days. I shook him, but nothing seemed to wake him. I was getting desperate, everything I did seemed to get no response. Finally, I realised he was dead just like the little bird on the bottom of my Wellington boot had been. I didn't know what I was supposed to do so I just left, leaving my grandfathers ashen corpse still in his bed. I walked all five miles back to my house, absolutely exhausted by the time I finally got back. When I got home, my mother cried with relief, hugging me closely to her. I'd never run away before and I never would again. I somehow thought that every time I ran away, someone close to me would die. I never told my parents about what I had discovered, and they were surprised at how quiet and distant I was for a few weeks, but as all young children do, I recovered from, it quickly, getting back to the things I should be doing, playing silly games with my friends and getting in trouble.

Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. Years later, I'd discovered my sexuality and could express it fully. I was happy in my bisexuality and I couldn't give a shit if the whole world knew about it. Hell, I was even in love with another boy called Sam. We'd met through a mutual friend when I was recruited as the singer of a band, at that time unnamed. We'd been friends quite a while before I told him how I felt about him, unsure of how he would react. I already knew he was gay but I didn't know if he was interested in me that way... luckily, he was. We were happy together but he never talked about his life at home. I guess I should have seen that as a warning of what was to come but I was too engrossed in love to see the warning signs.

I remember that day clearly, every single detail about it. It was a Thursday, the day before our next gig and we were gonna have a rehearsal that night just to check we had everything in sync. I'd gone to school and trudged my way through the day, just eager to get the hell out of there and go to band practice. In the final lesson of the day, a double period of English, the school secretary came up to our classroom and told me that the headmaster wanted to talk to me. I was kinda worried as you usually are when the big boss summons but it had nothing to do with school. He told me something that tore my heart in two, my life was shattered and useless as far as I was concerned. On the Wednesday night, Sam had been in a fight with his father who had found out about him being a homosexual. He beat him black and blue and nearly killed him; he would have if Sam's mother hadn't intervened. It wasn't the first time his father had beaten him but it was to be the last. That night, after supposedly going to sleep, Sam had taken a belt and hung it from the top of his door. Standing on a box, he made a noose from the belt, putting his own head in it and he kicked the box away from himself. He was discovered on the Thursday morning after his mother had repeatedly called him for breakfast with no response. She got suspicious when she part of the belt hanging through the closed door. Opening the door, Sam's corpse fell to the floor in front of her...

I can't imagine what it was like for her... it must have been even worse than it was for me, and I know I took it badly. None of us went to rehearsal that night but the next night, at the gig we played in memory of our fallen comrade, the man that I loved. The climax of that night was when we played No Hero by The Offspring, dedicated especially to Sam.

On Saturday morning, a letter came through the post for me. It was from Sam, the last thing he did before killing himself. I still have that letter, I have it put safely away under lock and key. In it, he told me all of the things he had never told me, he could never tell me when he was alive. In it was a single lock of his hair which I still keep in a locket, close to my heart. A part of me went with him when he died, and a part of him will always be with me. I've got that letter out right now, I can see the shaky handwriting as his wounds were still hurting him, I can see my teardrops on it as I read it the first time, some of them lying right next to where his fell as he wrote it...

I still feel him watching over me at times, there are days when I swear blind I saw him look at me and then walk away, a smile on his face as he saw I was alright. He will always be with me, and when I die, I hope that we will meet again. It's almost enough to make me want to believe in a God so I have someone to blame for all of this but I know he wouldn't want me to do that.

Today, I let him go. Today, I burned the letter. Today, I burned that lock of hair. Today, I am free.

Never take your love and life for granted. Never assume things will work out for the best. Never be anything that you aren't. It can all be taken away from you in a single moment and you will never be able to get it back another day, it's gone forever.

I have the ashes of the letter on my bedroom floor. Tomorrow I will scatter these ashes over the local reservoir...

I will never forget him, I will never let him go but I will move on. I will sort my life out and I will learn to love life again like I once did when I held his hand...

Once you said you'd stick to it until the end
I guess you lied, they call it suicide
Now you're gone, what was so wrong
That you couldn't find a way to carry on?

Second guess
Did I do my best?
There was a friend I had

Johnny was a weirdo
So what did you expect?
I ain't no fucking hero
I'm just trying to survive myself

I should have known, you went through it alone
I wonder why, did you even try?
You could have come to me, I would have helped you see
You could have found a way to carry on

Second guess
Did I do my best?
There was a friend I had...

Johnny was a weirdo
So what did you expect?
I ain't no fucking hero
I'm just trying to survive myself
Johnny's strange behaviour
Was a tip-off, they say
But I ain't no fucking saviour
I'm just living day by day

Little things, little lives hanging 'til the end
I say it doesn't really mean nothing
Telling truth, telling lies
I used to have a friend
I say it don't really mean nothing
And I can't let this feeling go
Let this feeling go
Let this feeling go

Johnny was a weirdo
So what did you expect?
I ain't no fucking hero
I'm just trying to survive myself
Johnny's strange behaviour
Was a tip-off, they say
But I ain't no fucking saviour
I'm just living day by day

Have you ever had someone close to you die? What, if anything, did you take away from it all?

The Man
05-27-2002, 03:31 AM
Holy crap.

No, I've never lost anyone to death, but most everyone close to me seems to change drastically or flat-out stop talking to me, and then I can no longer relate to them at all. It's drastically frustrating. I die a little every time someone important to me leaves my life.

I'm still trying to learn to cope with loss.

The Man

The PC Fascist
05-27-2002, 03:33 AM
Nothing, I'm pretty good with dealing with death...or maybe I'm not good...who knows?

Hey, spat, what song was that? It sound farmiliar...

05-27-2002, 03:39 AM
I said in the first post, just not right before the lyrics

No Hero by The Offspring

05-27-2002, 04:31 AM
I come in here and see this huge post, which I would have probably ignored if it wasn't written by you... Once I started reading it, I couldn't stop. That was amazing Spatty; really full of your emotions. Luckily BJ's watching TV; if he noticed that my eyes were all watery I'd feel silly. It took a lot for me to not completely cry over that.

You know, I thought it was something when I walked that box of notes from my best friend and ex-boyfriend out to the trash, after reading some of the things he'd said to me in disgust. Would it be wrong of me to tell you that you make me feel lucky?

You know, if I were in your shoes, I think I would just be so mad at Sam. Did you ever feel that way? If you haven't, then I guess you're a better person then I am. I would just be so angry with him.

I've never even seen a dead body outside of a couple of greatgrandma's all made-up and in their caskets. Just reading about your grandpa completely chilled me. This story as it is... the fact that it's true, and you can feel the true emotions in it... it could go in a book, like the ones they use for the English classes in colleges. It really got me.

05-27-2002, 04:38 AM
Originally posted by ShlupQuack
You know, I thought it was something when I walked that box of notes from my best friend and ex-boyfriend out to the trash, after reading some of the things he'd said to me in disgust. Would it be wrong of me to tell you that you make me feel lucky?

Not at all... that was the point of posting that up. Opening people's eyes so they can see what they really have... otherwise, I would have kept it to myself

You know, if I were in your shoes, I think I would just be so mad at Sam. Did you ever feel that way? If you haven't, then I guess you're a better person then I am. I would just be so angry with him.

Not at all, but that's because of my one true outlet - my music. The song I sang at the gig the day after I heard; that was my anger, that was my hate released from me... hell, it was virtually spiritual.

In case you guys are wondering, that happened over a year ago... but something happened to me today. In bitching and whining in my livejournal, I realised something and I let go. That's why this was posted up, I learnt to let go.

05-27-2002, 04:43 AM
Acctually, I was wondering. A year doesn't seem that long. I hope I never have anything like that to let go of.

05-27-2002, 04:58 AM
The only relative that's died in my lifetime is my Grandfather. I wept like a small child at that funeral. A friend of mine killed himself.

It's odd, I was on the phone with a friend of mine today who told me that she had watched her Father die. It was really only about ten seconds of conversation, but I felt like crying after we hung up nonetheless.

05-27-2002, 05:05 AM
.........so .......sad.....

My grandpa died....but it really didn't bother me too much, I cried,...but only because I was young, and I knew it was expected of me, I though I might seem to cold if I didn't....but I'm only that way with people I'm not close too. If someone I loved died I really don't think I'd be here any more.....


05-27-2002, 05:35 AM
I saw a body once...

It was an open casket viewing/funeral... he was a dearly beloved professor.. it was hard to hold back tears especially when we began playing for him... but this was over a year ago... he was a high spirited, devout man and he would have us celebrate... now after all this time has passed i think about that body and how MORTAL we all are... the next time you catch glimpse of a skull in a museum, or on the TV, stop and think about the life that once was in that pice of bone... this thread even helped remind me about what little time we have on this earth and in our bodies. So now it's my job to serve and do what I can until such a time is reached... Perhaps that's why some people are so prepared for death, and are little affected by funerals, because although their friend is gone, those still alive have duties to perform...

I have also dealt with an emotional loss and i salute you for being free, Spat... but i hate to say, I am still mentally haunted by an ex-lover of mine...It took me a while to discard her personal items, but it was done... pictures and letters mainly... however once in a while i will wake up after a dream about her. I love my wife and my son, but i fear what could happen should my ex and i meet again even though it has been 5+ years

Impressive thread,

05-27-2002, 06:47 AM
Death. I'm not going to post much, because whenever I talk about things like this, I upset a lot of people, a lot.

I've had a relative die, my grandfather. I knew him really well, and he was a really cool guy. It didn't affect me in the least. I doubt it will ever truly effect me when anyone dies.

I'm sorry...

05-27-2002, 07:00 AM
The only two people I knew who died were my great-grandparents. I was sad at the time, but right now, for some reason, I'm not affected at all. I guess it's because I was never that close to them. I only saw them once a year for a couple days, if that. If someone really close to me died, I have no idea what I'd do.

Del Murder
05-27-2002, 07:48 AM
Everybody I have ever known is still alive. I have been very lucky. But for this reason, I think that I am very unstable. I have never felt loss in my youth so I really believe that <b>when</b> I experience it I will emotionally break down. It is a big fear of mine.

Spatty, your post made me think not about letting go, but about not waiting until it is too late. Did Sam ever know how you truly felt about him? I have a lot to say to a lot of people but I think I'm too chicken to say it outside of something like a suicide letter. I'm not calling him a chicken, I hope you know what I mean. Death is a release, a way of letting everything out with no worries. The point is to <i>not</i> wait for that.

I hope someday I can share my inner demons with someone. But believe me, they are <i>really</i> bad.

05-27-2002, 07:58 AM
Darn it, Spatvark. You made me cry. Crying gives me headaches.

I'm really proud of you for being able to do what you've done...burning the letter, etc. I don't think that I could do that. I'd probably be hanging on to it forever and then I'd keep dwelling on things. Which is what I do with some of my mother's and brother's things. But these things remind me of them so I can't seen to part with them. My mother died of an aneurism when I was 13 and my brother died in a car accident.

I've seen a lot of dead people because the community that I grew up in had open casket funerals for everyone who died...and everyone went, including little kids. You get used to seeing them and it never bothered me, but it's different when it's someone that's really close to you.

05-27-2002, 09:42 AM
When i was around 10 or so, out local bishop or something died and the whole school was brought to the cathedral to see his body in an open-casket. It sounds really bad but i couldn't stop sniggering to myself. I mean the least that they could do for someone that important to the town was make sure his mouth was shut and his eyes were closed. Both my granddads are dead, i only ever met one of them. Grandmothers are next. That's just the way it goes. I've never cried at a funeral, i've only ever felt sorry for the people they've left behind.

btw Spatvark, i wouldn't be so intent on letting go if it was me. I'm a demon for revenge and if it was me, i would've made sure that the father suffered.

05-27-2002, 07:41 PM
On letting go...

I'm horrible at that. I still have remnants from each of my failed relationships that every so often I pull out when feeling nostalgic.

Thank you, Spatvark. You've inspired me to get rid of all of it.

I don't need these reminders of past love or of past pain. It's about bloody time I move on completely!

On death of loved ones...

I've lost a grandfather, across-street-neighbor-babysitter-motherly-figure woman, and a cousin. The grandfather, when I was only perhaps five... but I still miss him now and then. The babysitter/family friend when I was in middle school. The cousin died when he was 20, so, I believe I was maybe 17 or 18. He and his fiance died in a fire on Thanksgiving morning. Every Thanksgiving since then when doing the obligatory calls to the branches of the family, I remember that when I don't get to speak with him.

It's hard losing those we love.

05-27-2002, 09:33 PM
:bou::bou::bou::bou::bou:...Sorry about that...but thats what I said after reading it.
Ya know that almost made me cry? It must have been hell for you then? I guess it must still hurt...I don't think Ive ever been through something like that, I hope to high heaven that I never will have to.
Ive never seen a dead body, I hope I never will.


mystic ice cube
05-28-2002, 12:15 AM
that was very deep, spat....and no, I have never lost anyone to death before......and I have never seen anything dead either......maybe road kill, but that doesn't count.......

Germ Hamee
05-28-2002, 12:38 AM
...*cries* Wow, man, that's an amazing story.

I suppose I'm lucky. The closest I've ever experienced to lost loved ones are the death of pets, which are sad, but nowhere near as bad as the loss of human life. I have problems letting go of the past. I find myself near tears thinking about the good old days, and thinking about all the people I used to know. I still have every single note me and my friends passed between each other, and every single school book that had something to do with old friends.

I really respect your being able to let go. If it had been me, I'd still have the letter and everything under my pillow for years, never moving on.

I'm impressed and I have a very strong new-found respect for you reading that.

Dr Unne
05-28-2002, 05:50 AM
You said you don't want sympathy, so I won't comment on your post, I guess. I've lost family, but never friends or really close family. I can imagine how it'd be harder if it was a close friend. I've lost friends to other things though, like some that moved away (different countries even) and never came back. It was kind of hard, but not really that hard, because I never really let myself become too attached to people.

I also had something I kept for a long time, which one day I threw in the garbage because I was sick of the memory associated with it. I don't really want to get into details. But I can sympathize with that. I'm not sure what to think about things like that. Letting go is good in some ways, but some things shouldn't be let go of completely, maybe. Sometimes it's important that you keep certain things with you. "Things" as in lessons or memories, I guess.

05-28-2002, 05:07 PM
Well that was very moving and inspirational. I can understand how you must feel but unfortunately I will prolly never feel that way. I am one of the most closed people I know. But you where strong during a tough time. And I respect that . The past is over and done with so be strong and life will go on.

Spider John
05-28-2002, 06:07 PM
Well, I lost durn near everyone who ever meant anything to me exceptin' Ben and Julia and their spouses and children, but I'll just talk about the first and the last.

I was born into a world where the papers were all abuzz with the news of this saint on earth called Mr. Hitler. Kinda funny that he turned out to be the only man I ever practiced hating.

I was eight years old when the war ended, and I didn't understand much...All I knew was that I wasn't ever going to see my Uncle Charlie again because of the war, and it was Hitler started the war.

Charlie was still a boy when he died. He used to sneak me candies, but he enlisted in 1943 when he turned 18. If they ever told me just when or where he died, I can't remember, but I am sure that he got blown up by a grenade somewhere in France. I guess if it was France he must have made it to D-Day, but that's small comfort.

The latest one to die on me was the worst of all. Sure, Charlie's dying was bad, but I was just a lad at the time and didn't really understand; but the last person to die on me was back in 1998, so it's all fresh.

That was when me ol' missportin' Jenny, whom I was with for 40 years, passed away of a heart attack. I mentioned that in the smoking thread because that's why I quit.

I said it before and I'll say it again; When you live your whole life beside one person, and then suddenly she's gone, it leaves a hole in your life that nothing can fill. I was married to Jenny for 40 years, and I knew her since we five or six years old. Nothing can prepare you for losing something like that. Not all the deaths put together, not when Charlie died, not when my ma died, and not when my pa died. I guess it's comforting to know that I'm probably going to be the next to go. I don't want to be there at Ben's funeral or Julia's, or god forbid, Lana's.

I'm proud of you for letting go of Sam, Spatvark, but I ain't never going to let go of Jenny.