We rarely notice something...until it's no longer there.
I found that to be true when I started college. Now, the realization of the truth behind this saying - verbatim or not - strikes once more, and it couldn't have been more painful.
This is just another confirmation of why I'm not exactly comfortable with doctors and hospitals. I've been to too many visits where I end up not seeing that person ever again, after a fashion. But I've only been to see three people with whom I was close, with the same results every time. It's been just a week since the latest one, and still I'm trying to come to terms with it all. The burial - what was supposed to be the 'culminating event' or sorts - happened the other day, and somehow I feel like I should move on. I guess what I'm doing now, sharing this with those willing to listen, is part of the whole process.
Yes, you read it right: 'burial'. As in 'interrment of a deceased individual'. You see, I lost essentially half of me, the person on the other side of the mirror, the one who was me and yet not. I lost my twin.
Damn, just seeing that in writing makes me want to cry, yet strangely enough, I barely shed a tear throughout all this. Someone had to be strong for my siblings and other relatives to lean on and all that.
For those with questions on what happened to him, it was a car accident; I...don't feel ready to share all the details yet, but I'm not going to be able to look at any screencaps of Tala in the hospital (from the 3rd season).
Kai-otouto and I were always close, even as kids; I still remember how Otoosan would tease us that our nicknames were reversed when we were younger (he was 'Kei' and I was 'Kai' xD ). Were we so close so as to confuse ourselves for the other? It's possible, I suppose. And though at some point we pretty much diverged, due to differing interests and different schools and all that, we still knew each other better than our two other siblings, sometimes he knew me better than I knew myself, and vice versa.
It also struck me to know that he'd chosen to go into Interdisciplinary Studies, majoring in Creative Writing and Business Management; he told me that he wanted to help me run the family business but still have formal training in his job of choice - writing. Now, it looks like I'll have to fly this one solo. But hey, nothing I can do, right?
I always knew that Kai-otouto was - is strong - we both are, according to our relatives; in my opinion, however, he was always stronger. Despite going through the same ordeal I did in elementary, he managed to pull himself together, made friends with those from other classes, all that stuff. I, in contrast, hid in my shell locked behind concrete walls and came out...not exactly changed for the better; if anything, our innate natures - my being introverted and realistic and his being extroverted and upbeat - was enhanced by our twinned experiences.
Now that I look back at this whole ordeal, I realize that it takes a special kind of strength to accept what's happening, to let go, and most of all, to say 'goodbye'. I guess that makes all of us strong, then. Another quote comes to mind, though I forgot who said it: "Death doesn't mean the end of a life; 'goodbye' doesn't mean 'farewell'. Death is only the disappearance of one's physical form; 'goodbye' is only 'See you again'."
Goodbye, Kaiser, dear brother. I know that you're no longer suffering, and you're in a better place now. Tarry here no longer; there is nothing to be gained.
Fly free, brother, fly free.
