Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Don't speak, listen.

8 years ago, I moved to a complete different country.
He told me all about it. 
What we could all do together, what will happen in the future. 
Bags and boxes all packed and labelled.
I was so excited.

Every evening, I would be catching up with the latest gossip from my friends on MSN.
His daily chant behind my back was "it's bed time".
I'd wave him away.
"5 more minutes".

6 years ago, death greeted him peacefully.
"My deepest condolences to you and your family"- how I still hate reading, listening or hearing this sentence.
Everything was happening so fast.
Was it even real life?

So much mixed emotions around and in me.
Why did something like that had to happen to me?
Why did it happen to someone so genuine and compassionate?
What am I suppose to do now?

I became protective.
I began to shut out irrelevant people.
I started working for myself to gain what I want.
I did it for me.

Friends sympathise. Family criticise. 
"It's been a few years, let it go"
"You should have done this while he was still here"
I wanted to make myself deaf.

He was my world.
He encouraged, supported and gave all he had to me.
Never a "no", always a "try".
I took it all for granted.

Sometimes, little things I come across reminds me of him.
Jokes he'd say to make the whole table roar with laughter.
That warm smile he'd spread across the study table.
"Always listen to your mother".

I started seeing some things in life through his perspective.
I still hear him say "try it with confidence" in my head when I know I failed. 
I still, till this day, wonder what will my life be like if he was still here?

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