till death

about two weeks ago, we (teachers of JIT college) got news that a professor who had been missing for weeks before that, had took his life down a well. he leaves his wife and daughter.

while i can't personally talk to his wife, another professor who happens to teach Phys Ed, i can feel many things for her. we don't speak the same language. i don't know her very well, though i've played ping pong with her.

i recognize her. in my first few memories of her, i remember a purple track suit, that she wears well, walking down the path to or from her home to the school buildings.

Mary and i pass her once as she came back from seeing her daughter off on the city bus. she tells us that she is doing so in Chinese. Mary gets this because she is a Mandarin genius.

i feel for her. being human, for the sake of, and nothing else.

i feel that it is selfish, but i just don't know. selfish of her late husband. despite! any qualms, any quarrels that lasted for as long as it did.

Mary says and calls her "the widow," now. i've never heard this word used in it's true definition before. i don't know any widows myself, and death to me is not something true now.

i had been thinking, and i know a lot of my friends see this in me, that, i'm really good in denying. i don't know if that is inherent of everyone, or is it just me.

i'm thinking this because, i've grown to believe whatever we put aside, shall sit and wallow as it should. brush what we don't believe on the side and not see the truth for the truth.

i'm quite denying. i wish i could be constant. i've never wished for anything since i'd been 14. i'm wavering. i'm out of love, with everything. my religion has taken me over. how can i hold on to something that i want to keep forever?