And another one bites the dust......That sucks time to move on

First I should probably apologize to the dead for this title, but I'm sure all but two would find that funny. Okay as you might have guessed by the title and last sentence this one is about the friends and family I have outlived, and the apparent effects it has had on me. This has been brought about by a close friend of mine who has passed on today. While speaking to his mother while trying to get a vehicle to take her to the air port to collect his remains, I had noticed something very troubling in my attitude. Just to explain one thing real quick, I don't get " emotional " easily now to give an example. You wake up Sunday morning weekend has been going great you have Monday off and all is looking good to you, so you sit down to eat breakfast and read the paper. On the front page you see the was a shooting on a street you used to walk down on the way to school everyday for 12 years of your life. You start to go cold then you... Cry? Scream? Shout? Become inconsolable? That's the majority reaction, me I don't get that I always think " that sucks " and I move on with my day. I always thought though if it's someone close to me, someone I truly cared about ild be able to cry, and shout, and scream yet today for the third time I have been shown differently.

Counting the people I can remember losing ( and having any kind of emotional impact on my life ) I can count six. The first was my grandmother ( dads mom ) that had turned me from a ........well half innocent angel to a full blown evil demon. I think I was around 7 or 9 at the time, and it was my first experience with death. Then was a close classmate of mine I was 15, both of the loner breed we kinda just hung out together. Though he was born sick and everyday he was alive past 13 was a miracle according to the doctors it still was a shock to me. I vividly remember all the fights I got into because all these people claiming to be his friends showed up to give their support the day he needed it the least. It took me 3 months to give my condolences to his parents and siblings, every time I got to their steps I was over come with panic and ran the other way. Then it was her turn, and I know this was my turning point. Now I'm not gonna lie to myself and say it was the perfect time of my life, and nothing will b as good as it was. Because it wasn't, we had fights, we would split up for months on end. Yet somehow we always knew we were meant for each other and forgot and forgave quicker then you could imagine. When she passed, I was a wreck thankfully I wasn't around family so much, so they didn't see the drinking and fights that follow for a couple of months. Then one day I when I realized my alcohol tolerance had gotten to be the level reserved for Irish dock workers, that I had to slow down. That living like that would never help, that I had to move on cause the world wasn't going to stop for me.

That is when my " cold indifference " started, slowly at first accidents and the like and then towards death. Though I was remotely troubled by it I had told myself " when I know them I'll feel bad" . Then my grandfather died, a man who I didn't have the best relationship with... But I still loved him. Yet I couldn't cry, I didn't really mourn the typical way. All I had was this new kind of anger and self loathing that I couldn't process this a healthy way. Certain it would build up and in a few months I would snap behind some poor fool who bump into my arm. I never did thankfully, but I never shed a tear for him either. Then there was this kid I was a mentor to who..... A year after I left the town he lived in he took his own life. You would think that would make me cry, or even have pangs of guilt for not seeing this potentially happening? Again I felt nothing but anger and disgust in myself for being separate from everyone else. Now it was Matt a guy who instantly when I moved here became like a brother to me, and I to him. The first person who made this " forced relocation" to Baltimore seem alright. Sure it has been almost a year since we were able to meet up for drinks to catch up, him and his wife free from Maryland with tales of marriage to bore me with. Me with my crazy and sometimes fun stories that they can live vicariously through. Today I now know we three will never be able to have those beers and laughs again. I should be able to cry, I should be able to feel sad....right? Yet this emotion I am stuck with is not it, and in a way I have found the one thing that truly frightens me.

For what kind of friend can I truly be if I can say " do not worry I will not shed a tear when u die " and not have any malice or ill will behind it? Those are words I would only reserve for my enemies but the thought is still there, and will I even be able to cry for my mother? What of my father? Being the only sibling that even calls him more than 4 times a year, I doubt any of the others would even care. Yet I know that this is a fear I can't not overcome will force, so I must simply say " this sucks " and move on.......