Tick Tock

She was a ticking time bomb.  That's what I tell myself more frequently than not.  Somehow that's what makes me feel better, rest more assured.  Still, years later, I wonder what the conversation would have been like had I picked up my phone that day.  What if I had picked up the phone, what if we had talked about what was worth living for, what if I had made more concrete plans to visit her.  But it's naive to think that any of that would have made a difference...because she was a ticking time bomb.  I spent so much of my life waiting for that call.  When Scott left the message for me to call him back, I was so sure that he had some sort of birthday extravaganza planned for her, wanted to get a copy of the tattoo we were suppose to have matching, maybe devise a way for us to see each other for Christmas.  That's another thing that use to erk me, she never got the tattoo we were meant to have together...but that doesn't really matter...she's 6 feet under now.  I'm trying my hardest to let go of the fact that she doesn't have a headstone, it pulls at my heart strings each time I go to leave her red roses.
Reality is that everyone I meet is a ticking time bomb.  Everyone.  Everyone has an expiration date.  I don't look at death the same anymore.  When I contemplate what type of reaction I would have upon hearing of a loved one dieing, I don't imagine it being anything compared to my meltdown over Samm.
Since then there's been a few deaths in the family.  I hate to put it this frankly, but I didn't care.  I don't know if that makes me heartless or realistic.  The only death I can imagine ruining my world the way Samm's death did, would be my son's.  I can't imagine anything worse.
Beside my son's own fate, death doesn't really phase me.  It's inevitable.  Why do we, by we I mean the majority of our society, spend so much time fearing the inevitable. I don't.  You have no control over what happens after, if there's nothing after we die then so what, you won't be around to know any different.  If you get reincarnated then so what, again...zero control over what happens.  I think that's one thing in my life that I've striven towards, letting go of things I have no control over.
I don't think there's anything more selfish than suicide. I understand why Samm did...I get it, I've made peace with it, I'm glad she's not suffering anymore and I only got to be part of her life for a decade.  Only a decade...ha, to think that I'm even old enough that a decade isn't that long.  Anyways, I'm digressing.  Suicide, it's selfish, it only solves that one person's problems and causes them for everyone around them.  Trust me, had I not been pregnant, suicide might have been the ripple effect of Sammantha's death.  She's the only reason I hope there's more than nothing after we die.  I hope there's something beautiful for her, because the life she had wasn't deserved to anyone, especially her.  Who knows, maybe I'm wrong...maybe reincarnation is what put her in that life...I sure hope not.
That's why I have no intentions on settling down with one belief or another, you can't prove that there is a god.  Go ahead and tell me "prove that there isn't a God" and I'll tell you "prove that there aren't pink elephants with polkadots," neither of those are proveable.  "That's what faith is" they say...so faith is believing in something that can't be proven...alright, I get it.  Faith is the way to turn humans into lemmings.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that means that I don't believe there is a god.  My upbringing leads me to believe there is, but that's all. I like to believe that there is a god, it makes me feel better.  Which is silly logic, childish in many ways, but so what...if believing in something that may or may not be there makes me handle life better then that's still a coping mechanism, even atheists have them.
...Tick, tock, tick, tock...