cough cough and sputters*

tonight, as i sat typing here, everyone’s in bed, including da and her boyfriend and the world, to me, is silent. i can only hear the sound of these keys tippy tapping away, and i’m distracted by the flickering of the smiley face’s mouse that gan-ma bought back during her beijing trip.

i just did some mcomp studying, claps on my back and pats on my head for being almost goody-goody. but ha, who am i to kid? no matter how much i seem to be studying, or whacking my brain cells over a certain question, i seem to only able to give up in the end. that’s me. i’m ashamed of that me, for the matter, but i’m always unable to kick away that bad habit. ‘give up give up’, stupidly, seems to be my motto. and i still daresay i wanna graduate? but the question is, do i deserve to?

-

today marked the 31th day since that day. somehow, funnily enough, it seems like just yesterday, and yet, ages ago at the same time. as usual, i dont know what to think. on the outside, i look cheerily enough, almost like my normal self, laughing and cracking and talking to the best i could with my terrible sore throat, all smiley and sometimes quiet, but i never shown my feelings to these people i see almost everyday. (except that lia caught me crying at one time) but how could they have known, or would even care for the tiniest bit, that inside, i’m weeping? crying, screaming, kicking up a fuss, emotionless-

it’s was only when i’m alone, on the way home from work, walking towards that bus-stop behind the mrt, or sitting alone by the bus window, or at night typing all this shit out, or at night sleeping in Daddy’s room would i let myself feel such despair and helpless-ness. i thought about the unfairness. i ask every god i knew well silently, looking up at the sky, why him? i keep asking. why him? why my Dad? why must he be the lesson learnt? why must his death be the one teaching others to cherish their lives by going for regular checkups? those idoits never seems to care about all these before Dad’s death. so why must it be Dad who let them learnt and realized? arent this unfair, God? i questioned you. if you have a reason, indeed, let me understand so i wouldnt be so resentful, spiteful, be filled with such auguish, misery, guilt and pain for him that no one will ever understand no matter what they say that they could.

every time i sees something that reminds me of him, the turmoil of emotions that washed over me is over-empowering. it gushes through each and every of my veins towards my heart and you know what, it feels like a hand closing over my heart, squeezing it hard. tears will threaten to slip out and i’ll hastily rub them away with the back of my hand. ‘dont cry, you silly girl, dont cry.’ some moments, however, i sat, stunned and shocked, as the truth washes over me once again: Dad’s gone, he’s gone. and it always feels like i’m re-disgesting that fact over and over again, recapping every single incident from 24th again and again, and i feel numbed to my bones. part of me dont believe it, while the other shouts and punch the truth into my head. it hurts. it hurts till it shocks and i feel nothing at all. sometimes i feel happy and fine you know, because i’m pretending that nothing has ever happen. things are still wonderful for all of us, everyone in the family well and fine. but then, something will snap into pieces inside you again and everything started crashing around you, over and over, again and again. it’s like a cycle that would never stop cycling.

death is a great teacher. but it’s too bloody damn harsh. 

i know, i know. people will say, ‘this is life.’ indeed it is. but why why why why why? why him? i still want to understand, to embrace it and let go, but my heart and brain kept racing with this question.

why him? why my Dad?