Better Off Not Knowing

                Authors Note: Throughout the whole tale of Jekyll and Hyde, everyone seems to want to know the answers to every question and assumption they have. The problem with knowing the answer is how the reaction unfolds when they know what’s hidden inside the cabinet. They don’t know how to react or they don’t even have a choice but to react unhealthily (literally). This post is a spin-off of what is going on in this story while explaining something very personal.

It was better not to know. The curiosity is awful but knowing what is really going on is worse.

Knowing he has it just like my grandpa had it. Knowing my grandpa didn’t survive.

There’s no way to escape it. No way to get past the power of the heart or the pump of one blood vessel, because when one delicate thing goes wrong, everything could crumble around it.

I had no idea that this was the reason I never got a childhood with my grandpa. I never knew that the disease runs in the family and that any one of us could inherit the gene. I had no idea that it was passed down from my grandfather to my dad.

The nurses say don’t worry. My mom says he’ll be just fine. My dad brushes it off as a joke. But there is no joke here. No laughter in this subject at all.

They don’t know. They don’t know it’s hurting me. They don’t know that I’m scared he will never walk me down the aisle.

They don’t know.

But its better this way.

It’s better not to know. The curiosity is awful but knowing what is really going on is worse.