Hi Dad..

This is not going to be the last thing I write about you.

First of all, you might chuckle or giggle or even choke when I told you that every written sentence I wrote in this stupid blog means a lot to me.

Second of all, you would think that I was obsessed with some stupid story I had found on the internet,

that I was just being too overwhelmingly passionate about the imagination I used to live in,

and why did I write so much about peoples problems sometimes I don’t even have a moment to fix mine,

or yours.

Because you thought you didn’t deserve them, as you said at the very beginning.

“I only expected myself having a great job and living in a small house. That’s all”

So here it goes,

I remember when I asked you why people value women so much that they didn’t have time to treat men the way they were supposed to.

Why did you put so much even too much attention for mom sometimes she didn’t return such a pleasant yet comforting feeling you had genuinely given for every damn second she complained about life?

Or why did you even bother holding back your tears and your rapid exhaustion to keep the comfort between us? That the feeling of failing and collapsing all over your unspoken terror might scare us all after everything you had been through both as a father and a leader.

I was so young when I found out that reality had struck all of us from every way possible, even so naive that all I know were growing up and standing up after those struggling moments when life had taught me that our story had a lot more to carry. In every story or fairy tale I had learned since I was a child, in which heroes always win against evil, and the universe seemed to neatly write out the story. 17 years would’ve never been enough for me to learn and even accept how the world had treated you, because in this story, there has always been a place for evil, where the universe doesn’t care if we remain silent or act out of it, there’s always something stronger keeping us from surviving. But you made it out once, for the very first time god had put you into trials, you had woken up, and pretended nothing could possibly go wrong even it was a complete chaos.

You were worried about things we didn’t understand, things you thought were complicated for us to go through. And they had never been too difficult for you despite the fact that you were never be whole again. Your life had been divided into two, or even four, I was sure you were missing a whole lot of pieces when you found out that your life had turned out the way you never expected it to be. Like having such a loyal and caring wife that I will forever call her ‘mom’, or having me as your rebellious daughter who apparently didn’t know how things work after everything you went through. After everything we went through as a family. Even after you left. You were so damaged and even ruined in every way of the world could possibly bring.

And I was sure from that moment at the very beginning of your continuing battle, you wanted to give up, and I was so stupid by thinking that we were going to go through our written chapter together, by keeping my reckless and fragile hand into your warm comforting grasp, walking towards the ocean with moving sand beneath our feet. So I am here pretending to be talking to you only because I want to say I’m sorry,

I’m sorry that I was too quiet or so distant at times when you needed me most,

I’m sorry that I had ignored those several moments when I thought that you would always be strong this whole time,

that I kept forgetting that you wouldn’t admit anything that had gone wrong even it was killing you just because you didn’t want to hurt anyone,

I’m sorry that you didn’t get to be here longer and it must’ve scared you to think that I was going to be able survive this,

in fact, I’m not.

And I’m sorry that I had wasted too much time asking despite everything we went through had caused so many painful memories I had to put up with,

even everyone in this world was sorry for the missing life that both of us had desired,

because in the world we live in, there is no hero.

So apparently, it really scares me to death,

and I have to live with that.

I usually forgot things I had regretted not to mention that you are the only reason why I haven’t moved on, the thought of something took you away to come across so many places I haven’t seen before makes me feel like I have lost you more than I thought I would. The feeling of failing to keep you longer has been haunting me since the first time I realize that our souls don’t belong to anywhere or anyone, but to several places we haven’t known yet. Places where you are going to tell every living soul who lived in this world someday, some places in between life and death, places where even the evil would surrender.

And you had to let something trap you from every brightness you’d see by the time you open your eyes,

you had to give everything up for the living souls you had left dying,

you had to spare the history that once you had promised to keep,

you had to let go of us.

For the love you’d willingly provided for this precious little family,

for every step you took towards the end of our chapter,

while asking if I was ready to lose almost every part of it,

I wasn’t.

And how does it seem fair?

maybe in some other world, it seems pretty much fair to you.

Sure you were broken and struggling a little just because people said it is your ‘time’ to leave,

it made you fought over your own soul against death trying to claim the life you shortly had in this universe.

You were frightened, and you were allowed to.

“I was so happy even I couldn’t take my eyes off you after the first time you came out of the nursery room. When your were being taken care of by a bunch of nurse and I couldn’t keep my hands together getting too excited and eager to finally hold you and claim you as my child”

She Was The World I Lived In (pt.2)

Do you remember falling right off a bicycle for the first time when you learned how to ride one?

When you were crying your eyes out because that incident scared you?

Or when the first time you had your broken ribs after football?

You were surprised at the sudden impact and didn’t feel any pain after your whole body touched the ground.

But you would feel it exactly when you expected it.

I didn’t expect things to be like this until it happened.

In my case, I have never been through any incident like that in my life. I suffered every painful minute carrying the fact that I was completely scared to reverse the fantasy I had long ago held into. Seeing her in a hospital bed wasn’t the most terrifying thing I had ever thought of and I regret all of the things I’d done especially for making a stupid decision to keep her away just because ‘she lied’ about her being sick. I had avoided her and the hospital too long and the possibility of death might take her away had haunted me for as long as I left my mind unoccupied.

Small things were clearly seen during her missing presence.

Things we had been doing since the day we moved in.

And most of my days possibly didn’t come out well, she made my morning coffee turned cold. I was losing my focus on every part of daily life I had been having, except how to make a proper breakfast without her presence sitting on the right side of the table. She would also leave my TV turned on all day making one of my neighbors complained about how loud it was. I wasn’t even there to worry about another stuff when my mind was completely attached to her. Every little thing that reminds me of her was stayed in it’s place while memories flashed through every corner of the house; like her regular pyjamas or her favorite coffee mug were left untouched, and the right side of the comforter was always tucked in every time I went to sleep.

No matter how hard I tried to move past it, something always encouraged me to see her.

Like accepting and forgiving myself for things I’d done was easier than being a person I had once admired.

In fact, it’s not.

Those 5 days of my life and nothing was worse compared to being apart from her.

However, I still chose to become the good man I was.

So I decided to see her.

It was Friday evening, I was driving all the way through the hospital while drinking a cup of coffee I had been having for the last 5 days. I didn’t want to fall asleep with the possibility of death was trying to reach her out and could win in every brief second it could get. I had to remind myself every minute I went through pictures or memories of her that life meant more than absolute changes for us. It was more complex than that; either it got better or worse, we still went through moments and changes this world could spare.

But that time was clearly different and proven that she could stay the same or got worse everyday.

She just didn’t get better.

I was wondering what kind of life she was expecting while being in a hospital bed alone, with four white thick walls surrounding her. When no one could give her time or space to pull herself together; to finally embrace herself for having the most dreadful disease for 5 years. I knew for a brief second she would easily pretend it never happened, that our last fight was less than a milestone we should get it over with.

She would say it will be okay even though it’s not.

But that thought had changed before I stepped into a small room full of possibilities.

That room was colder than I expected, every single living creature was probably numb being in that room. It was so intimidating, especially when it didn’t smell like her or even her perfume I had back home. It was just drug scents everywhere. And I hated every last moment of it.

She was positioning herself in a sitting position when the first time she saw me walked in. She looked hopeful and desperate at the same time, maybe she was just glad to see me finally facing the lie she had chosen to live with. Her eyes started to show a hint of an apology, and that look of frustration was emerged like she was asking for help; or at least a redemption for things she had done.

Even though she didn’t have such request, I would always accept it somehow.

She was exceptional.

We were stuck at a hospital all by ourselves. We spent our important dates pretty much in there, I would bring treats to make her feel better sometimes, or we just gave them away to the other patient because her taste buds were off. She would be in that situation where she acted all happy and cheery but also she would just be all stiff and rigid. I didn’t notice the changes because I was there the whole time and she looked just… the same. Her skin had turned pale, and her body was getting skinnier everyday. Her small body was nothing compared to the thick white bed that carried her, she was skinnier than the last time I saw her. But nevertheless, she was still the same person I knew.

The world could give me billions of chances, I would still hand them over to her.

And at moments like this, you’d surrender or sacrifice anything in return for the ability to stop the time.

Because every second was priceless.

She was living every sense of life to the fullest version of it, there were the goods and bads that helped her went through every prospect of changes that made her who she was. I was thinking of many aspects of life she would be getting after she was fully discharged from this hospital. What our lives would have become after everything we had been through; for treatments and medications she had to take or bring with her reminded me that our relationship wouldn’t be no longer survived.

It would never be easy to go through for both of us.

When things were finally coming back in place, she seemed to slowly fade away.

And her body was rapidly turning worse.

She was the world worth living. Every part of her was almost like the art of consistency, my feelings would always stay the same around her. She told me a story about the space once, about how the stars and the moon are still on the same spot for centuries that she wished she was tougher than the strength of the atmosphere which was always keeping them away from us because she thought that humans were careless and ruthless by trying to ruin them apart. Instead, the world that she wished to discover was nowhere to be seen; it was fading away with her when she thought about things that belong to certain places. Those places she could have never been to, places she seemed to be dreaming about.

Maine.

The first state she had recognized when we went through our blind map.

Now she would never notice where it was.

As the last day ends, a new day would come. Everyday with every random possibility we went on waiting for the perfect day for god to finally take her away from me. My world was revolving around her and now it has lost it’s track. It was like the apocalypse all over again causing some odd feelings about how I relive that moment without crashing apart.

The earth might lose a soul when mine was tumbling down.

My world.

And no one was there to pick up the pieces.

She kept her promise to stay longer on the first day we moved in. It was just a basic conversation we had back then when I asked her to remove all of the family photo we had brought pretty much wherever we went. She had her lips covered in cotton candy from the theme park we’d been before we moved our stuff saying that she was excited to finally start a new one with me.

She saw the beauty in things and people sometimes she didn’t expect things to be bad at all.

Even when she was sick for years, she could have assumed things would’ve been better any time now.

Like the slight possibility of surviving still worth saving.

And yet, she was vanished.

I remember it was raining, and everyone was standing around her coffin with their coats keeping the mud and the wetness away from those expensive suit while I was staring up to the sky. I was feeling her presence with the rain covered my body all the way down to my feet. People might not recognize my tears that had been flowing out since I got out of my car; it was like the rain was trying to wipe them clean off my face.

It was keeping me from tearing up.

Like she always did back then.

It wasn’t the rain. It was her.

She used to inspire the way I see things from a better perspective.

I always wanted to recreate her story, to travel around cities and revisit our small conversation about places she had eagerly wanted to go to.

And I had lost my sense of words anytime I tried to write one. 

Two years later, I was in Paris doing a book tour for my best-selling fiction when memories flashed through my mind.

This is the city she randomly marked for our first anniversary.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

And I loved every part of her. Even when she was a walking disaster, she’s still the same person many years ago; the person who’s still being all this careless and inattentive when her life might end at any moment, now she’s gone.

With every piece of my shattered self that was finally healed from the fresh open wound she had caused. I shall live and love again, because that was what she had once taught me. She was the world I used to live in, but now she was just a part of it.

One day, everyone was having their regular bedtime and she was fully awake while walking around places.

When forever will never be enough, she said. Neither anytime at all.

Hi!

On september 16th, 10 pm, 18 years ago I was born.

And later on I am desperate.

So I stop counting.

Press Pause.

and write.