Death

“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” 
― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid

Yeah. Maybe this is a late post. This post is tribute to my grandmother.
I was not there when she had her last breath. But she will forever live in me.
Her cooking will be my inspiration. She will be my inspiration.

The feeling of having someone you know died is just inexplicable  I tried to hide my tears for a couple of times. A lot of times actually. But they would just fall randomly. Even during my jeepney trips around the school. I will never forget that time when I received the news.

I just came from a dinner date with my friends. I missed them so we owe to each other that date. But then, as we went home, I received a text. I knew my eyes were swelling and my tears are about to fall. As much as I could, I tried to stop them. I am in the middle of the road, for Pete's sake! But emotions have this way of doing things, the more you suppress them, the more intense they become. I walked to my things, got them and went home. As I walked, I cried. I know I have lots of things to think about, my exam in Physics, my acads. I ended up distracting myself with series and slept it off.

The morning after, I thought I was over the butterflies. But I'm still here.

It is not the same as before.

Yeah. It is not the same. Things changed. I changed. You changed.
I left you there. I should've been there. I left you. Hanging.
We were going somewhere, but I left you.
I don't know if it was worth it but I guess it is.
I want to know you better. I don't know how to do that though.
History is a snake. It changes perspective.
I wanna come back. But you won't let me.
You let go. And now, I am left. Just like how I left you. Hanging.
I might have burned the bridge but I am making one again.
And I know that it is hard, but please help me.
Don't break the bridge I am making.
Don't ignore me. Because I want us to be friends.
The way that we used to be.