A Note to My Love on the Day of My Death

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I fear the permanent silence that comes when death loosens the knots of life, and we slip into the undiscovered country. I fear that hole in my heart knowing that it’s something that can never be repaired; that absolution is impossible; that someone who I loved so dearly, so profoundly over the years will be lost to me in the great unknown. Life is so brittle, and so short. Losing Phillip made me understand that no animosity or grudge was ever really justified against someone that I loved. And the reasons are self-evident; don’t lose out on the few precious moments we have for the sake of some ground to stand; some hill to die on. While we stand so proudly upon our perch of victory and self-righteousness we may look down to find that it was not our enemies who had perished while the battle raged – it was our loved ones. There is nothing more bitter than the tears you cry at the funeral of someone who you loved with all your heart, but died amidst an unsettled conflict. I am filled with an apprehending horror of losing you to the grave, and if I cross your mind as your life replays before you, that you would think you meant less to me than you do. My sun rises and falls with longing thoughts of you. Each day is another opportunity to be a better man, a man that you’d be happy to have in your life. And should you find yourself dressed in black and thinking of words to say of me, I pray that the man I was was someone you could say you loved, and were proud to call your friend.

Yours in Contemplation,
Kierkegaard

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About facedownphilosophy

Proud recipient of the "Award for Outstanding Excellence in the Field of Unrivaled Superiority"
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