I have just been sitting in the living room with my mama, watching the best bits of Children in Need, and Ellie Goulding's performance of How Long Will I Love You was shown. We were both staring into our respective devices, and when I looked up, her jaw was wobbling. She knows I wanted it for my funeral, so I can only imagine what she was picturing. I climbed onto her lap and squeezed her as hard as I could. I can't cry too. This time I have to be the strong one. I cannot cope with seeing people's pre-emptive grief, when I know they'll have a lifetime more and I won't be able to do anything to comfort them. If there is an afterlife, I want it to have nothing to do with this one. Watching the lives of everyone I love go on without being able to communicate with them would be a literal hell for me. Like being trapped behind glass, trying so hard to be with the people on the other side but never breaking through.
So I don't cry. If I don't cry, no one else can cry. And if nobody cries, it isn't sad, and none of this is really happening. Because the sadness is the hardest part. The excruciating sorrow that losing someone brings. I am rambling because I can't communicate how this feels. I just can't. Not yet.
This will be my requiem.
How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you, And longer if I can. How long will I need you? As long as the seasons need to Follow their plan.
How long will I be with you? As long as the sea is bound to Wash up on the sand.
How long will I want you? As long as you want me too, And longer by far. How long will I hold you? As long as your father told you; As long as you can.
How long will I give to you? As long as I live through you, However long you say.
How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you, And longer if I may.