365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

17

There’s something so painful about chasing the memories and love of a dead person. It’s like trying to hope for a better future, a future you know that wouldn’t involve them anymore. A future you once thought would be all about you and him.

I heard our song on the radio while on my way to office, and I was hurled back in time in an instant. It’s still hard to grasp what happened, like it seems to happen just yesterday and I was on the pavement of the hospital, crying my heart and soul out.

What you did, why you did, the theories behind it, the mechanics, I all understand it now. I studied it for you. I just wish I’d understood it before when you’re still clinging to me for life support, like I’m your anchor that keeps you from floating away from this world that demands too much of you.

I wish I held your hand tighter, and hugged you a little bit longer, and listened to you a little bit more patiently. But I didn’t. I took you a little bit for granted because I thought you’d be my forever, that you’ll always be here on my side, that you’ll always be my partner in crime.

When you left us, the world stop spinning for me as if for punishment. That’s the time I also realized that time could bend, that time could stand still and that it could stop just like that for me, the bright noise of the world dimming in a blink of an eye, the curtains closing, and I’m left with nothing but your memories and the white noise behind.

And contrary to what you always say to me, I learned that there’s such thing as too late. And I’d been too late. I’m so sorry.

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