Almost one month.
I'm finally ready to talk about it.
Writing has always been a way of escape for me in the past, penning all of my dark thoughts so I could live in the light of day.
It was not what I thought I was getting a call for on a Sunday morning. Yet we only met a week ago. We talked. We hang out together. You left without a word.
At that time, mostly, I just felt numb. Physically, I was there, but I didn’t feel here mentally. I worked and I studied for my postgrad classes. But I was not okay. I didn’t know how to deal with grief. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel.
We were together for 17 years. We bonded over our love for talking, our similar music tastes, and our perfectionism. We would talk for hours about the most mundane things or serious life decisions. We were so alike that sometimes we would argue and get into spats, but we always made up.
I have no idea how many nights I spent crying myself to sleep, how many days I struggled to sleep, how many moments I felt like I couldn't breathe because the pain was too much to bear. There were times when I was suddenly sad because I suddenly remembered you... us.
It’s hard to forget someone who gave us so much remember. That memory will always hurt.
Seperti Sheila on 7 bilang:
Sekeras apapun menangis, takkan mengubah yang telah terjadi. Kita harus melepaskan
Semua tempat jalan waktu bersama, setiap kata yang telah diucapkan, bagai warisan yang telah disiapkan, kita harus menjaganya
Selamat Jalan
Now I am no longer sad, and I never expected to be able to write this quickly. It's not like losing my parents. We all indeed intend to continue living as usual, it's heavy, but we can slowly get through it.
I know I have to move forward and keep living the life you would have wanted for me. I’ll keep your memory alive in my heart, in my stories, in the way I live my life.
Sending love and prayers to my loved ones. I will always miss you, my dear. My prayers are always for you.
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