...I find it quite strange myself.
I know it's been over six months since you passed away, but I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night after dreaming of you. Is it strange that I sometimes subconciously trick myself into thinking that you're still alive? It's quite creepy, especially when the realization hits me that you're not alive.
I remember my brother telling me that when he came back from studying abroad he had in his mind that he'd go visit the entire family, and had you in his mind too. The realization that you were gone didn't hit until after he arrived by some time.
I stopped thinking of visiting you, but sometimes, when I remember those days, or not even remember, it just happens without prior warning, I can feel your hands in mine, marked with wrinkles which symbolize the wisdom of your age.
I remember in your funeral I kept thinking to myself, all these people are here for someone who's under the ground that they're walking on. Someone who's physically available, but spiritually gone.
The thought made me sick to my stomach. It was really hard, holding myself. I know I might seem like I act fine about you in front of people, but I know deep down inside that I'm still not fine, and probably won't be for a while.
I tried to talk about you with someone so close to me. I remember finding an envelope you sent me, where you wrote a congratulations on the cover, and that someone was on the line when I found it, and when I told that someone the reply I got was unnerving, basically telling me that I should get over it already, and that I should stop putting myself in a situation where I keep holding on to the past. I was quiet, put the envelope away, hearing the excuses in my ear, trying to make the situation lighter. Well, what was said was said. This happened more than a few weeks ago. I can't forget it, though.
I'm not the type to forget easily. Is that a bad thing? Maybe it is, especially when someone attempts for me to forgive them for something, thinking all is forgotten. I used to act like it was all forgotten even though I don't possibly forget. Now, I just don't act, it's better.
You know, I always find it strange when someone accompanies your name with the phrase "May God have mercy on her soul" afterwards. It's just so definitive.
When someone talks about you or when I remember you, I remember this videoclip I watched recently, the one I recorded when we were at your house. I remember the days of having fun with family members, and the joy and sadness that we shared.
D'you remember when I was around 12 years old or younger? I remember sitting with you by myself, and engaging in a really interesting conversation with you. I was quite shy at that age, barely spoke to adults, but found you to be really appealing. You told me of things I never knew about family members. I remember us talking about how someone dreamt of someone else who had passed away long ago, and how I dreamt another dream of that same person, and you were so interested in what I had to say. I never thought you would be, and it just encouraged me to keep talking. I loved that day, and I love that memory.
I remember trying to tell someone how I felt like your death was sudden. They told me it wasn't sudden, and that I knew it was going to happen, especially since you've been in the hospital for so long and after what the doctors said. They don't really understand what I mean by sudden, cause I still think that it's that way.
I had seen you just a month ago. When they took you to the hospital we all thought it was one of those routine things, where you'd occassionally spend some time in there for a few common reasons and then leave. That's why, when visiting you, I felt so bad when seeing you. You looked so tired and spent, I really didn't realize it was serious. Then they took you to cure you abroad. Doctors there said you were too late for them to help you. Maybe you were there for a week or so. You were supposed to come back here, everyone knew you were going to, and we all wanted to see you. You were only two to three days away from coming back, and that's when I knew...
You see I feel like no one understands me here. Maybe except for my cousins, as they lived the same situation with me and all felt, too, that it was quite sudden. Everyone else saw it as a normal occurence, something that was expected to happen. Some people tried to give me false hope, saying that you'll be fine and what God intends is what will happen. They knew that I knew how they really felt, and what they thought, and that my thoughts and theirs weren't so different, yet they still said it. Trying to make someone feel better under false pretences will just annoy the person, especially when they know that the truth is so blindingly obvious to themselves and everyone around them.
It still happens though doesn't it?
Is talking to you creepy, even though I know you're not around? Maybe this is trying to get over what happened, maybe it's another step towards feeling fine.
I don't think I'll ever be fine, I just might forget a bit more as time passes by, that's all...