Scars of Death

Loss is fucking awful. No sugarcoating it, here. One day, everything is (semi) right with the world and the next day, it's turned completely upside down by death.
Death is not going away. Trust me, I know. But even though it is a constant, there really is nothing to be done to desensitize us to it. Every death of a loved one stabs us in the chest like a knife. It doesn't matter if you've been stabbed before. It doesn't make the next jab of the blade easier. It hurts just the same and takes a long time to heal. And even then, we still carry the scar everywhere we go, left behind like sorrow forever marred on our skin. These people will always be a part of us; forever there for us to hold on to.
I think the scars are a good thing. Of course, they hurt like hell and I wish they didn't have to happen at all, but having them reminds us that love is real. Life is fleeting, but love is eternal.
No matter what we go through, these scars let us know we are capable of something so strong, it stays with us forever.
I'm writing not just from a heart of sorrow, but one of love even death cannot sever. I will hold those I love closer, never wavering in my gratitude for their parts in my life. One day, they won't be here to hold onto and I don't want to spend the rest of my life asking impossible 'what if's, expecting answers I will never be able to obtain. I want to love now. I want to love them now and, then, forever.