It was the essence of life to disbelieve in death for one's self, to act as if life would continue forever. And life had to act also as if little issues were big ones. To take a realistic attitude toward life and death meant that one lapsed into unreality. Into insanity. It was ironic that the only way to keep one's sanity was to ignore that one was in an insane world or to act as if the world were sane.
Maybe it mattered so much because it was only bound to be temporary. Sometimes the irony of life is bittersweet like that, over before it started yet never really had a chance to begin. We spend far too long trying to find reason, clarity or whatever comfort one is needing to understand chaos without appreciating the beauty in the arrival of something that ignited a growth in you. In a world filled with billions, what a miracle to have shared something so deep, even if it was never meant to stay.