You ever sitting at a table with your greatest, most cherished loved ones at the end of a jovial evening when suddenly you are confronted with the realization that at one point or another, these people will disappear from your life?
No? Just me? Well I won’t let that stop me from explaining about my insane thought process.
I’m currently on the big island of Hawaii, having flown out last Saturday with my boyfriend, Alex, to attend my friend’s wedding. It’s been a beautiful week so far, my college best friends in the same place for the first time since college graduation; we’re (sorta) all grown up and we have our boyfriends to join us. We’re renting a house out in Waikoloa Village and having a blast exploring the island and getting ourselves into all kinds of shenanigans (such as discussing in depth the wines one should pair with human flesh and how best to roast our friend, Ian, on a spit).
Last night we all went out for dinner at Kamana Kitchen in Kona, a wonderful Indian restaurant with a perfect ocean view where we feasted and laughed and smiled all evening. Doc and his family joined us for the feast, nine of us all together trading off stories around the table and viciously debating the ways of the Dark Side in the Star Wars Canon. I felt so full of love and happiness for these people around the table, some of my nearest and dearest friends, people who I would take a bullet for without thinking about it.
Alex and I rode home afterwards, the island is dark with dotted lights of houses off in the distance. We’re driving alone down Queen Ka’ahumanu Highway, and I’m struck by a melancholy of foresight: all the people I love are going to die someday.
Everyone has this thought (or so I’m telling myself to feel better), we all know that life is temporary and fleeting on this planet. Time continues on whether we like it or not. But my anxiety ridden mind couldn’t help but fear for the impending days I’ll have to attend the memorials, funerals, and wakes of my beloved departed friends.
Mortality is terrify. When my beloved childhood cat, Tortie, passed away at the end of 2014, I become determined to avoid forming any more emotional bonds with animals for fear of enduring the agonizing pain that was losing my cantankerous childhood pet. Of course, this determination was easily thrown out the window, as my family had three other cats still around, all of whom owning concrete positions in my heart.
So of course when I suddenly felt my anxiety’s smoke fill my vision and I started thinking of distancing myself from friends, my common sense bitch slapped me across my face and said, “You’re a moron”.
Of course, I’m not going to suddenly distance myself from my loved ones and go hide in a cabin the middle of the wilderness (though that’s not too far from my ideal living setting….), But I’m still so terrified for the day I’m faced with the mortality of everyone I love.
I recognize that this is obviously a sign that I should cherish every moment and memory I make with them; that I’ll surround myself with love through these amazing beings. But the fear is still buried there…..
Okay. It’s time for the Bachelorette party. Margaritas will solve my morbid love of my friends…. Or make it worse….. Let’s see how this goes…..