A Chosen Death

What exactly does the word “death” mean?  According to modern dictionaries, a standard definition involves the words “extinct,” “stop,” “not working,” and so on…in relation to an organism or being.  The latter only addresses the physical death—that of the departure of a soul from its body, diving into the unknown realms of existence.  But what about the other type of death?  That of the still-living and still-breathing organisms which cease to exist due to a plethora of other reasons?  The complete eradication or deletion of a person from one’s memory…of a living person that is…would that not also mark his or her death?  Surely it would.  For in the memory-holder’s life or vision, that erased being has lost its place—it is tucked somewhere into the mind’s attic and that’s where it is intended to rest.  Undeniably, what leads to such “killing” is an unhealed wound or an invisible bruise—possibly a scarred heart or a painful incident—whatever the reason may be, it is strong enough to necessitate the death. 

The same happens with an “actual” death.  The deceased is brought into focus only if the person, the thinker, chooses to do so—until he or she is finally left to rest in peace.  They are both equally painful—the latter even more so than the former.  For in the case of the former, the “actual” and somewhat “forced” farewell, is out of the living’s hands…one is faced with the loss and is forced to deal with it.  Even if one is left with sadness, remorse, and in some cases a feeling of guilt and an endless river of “could-haves” and “might-have-beens,” in most cases it’s only a matter of time before the pain turns into a memory; only the good is remembered, the rest becomes history. 

Nevertheless, the latter, the unfortunate “chosen” death, is more complicated and thus more painful.  Yes, the “could-haves” and the “might-have-beens” also exist…but they lurk somewhere between the threads of memory and those that the person tries to rip apart—asserting their presence every once in a while. The sufferer chooses to erase a painful memory—one that is hauntingly dreadful—while being aware that the “deceased” in this case is actually still alive, roaming the earth like a proud troubadour…and yet, he or she cannot be kept alive in that person’s memory and so is pushed into the bottom of the well.  But this death is not a restful one—the live memories always resurface and fill the pained with tears and bloody froth—only to be shoved back into the drenched box of memories…where the willingly dead roam until their final departure—but do they ever truly disappear?