I miss you. I miss talking about books and stuff with you, even our stupid arguments too.
She said we were so much alike, that we’d practically been the mirror image of one another. Or, should I say, I’m the female version of you. We were both stubborn and temperamental. None of us had wanted to give in, listen, or at least try to understand each other. It’s the “I’m not always wrong and you’re not always right” attitude.
As cliche as this sounds, people often take everything for granted. I guess that’s what we’d done. Too late for regrets, there’s no use in wishing you could turn back the time. Out of sheer desperation, we at least managed to start reaching out when we had learned that time was indeed running out. You had lost the ability to even utter a single word. Your silent tears had been only your expression, that I could only hold your hand, look deeply into your eyes, and said: “It’s okay. Everything has already been forgiven.”
I wish I’d been able to say more than that to you, but perhaps I could only do that through my prayers. At least, I’m thankful that I’m still given a chance to say a lot more to those I care about. I love you. Thank you. I’m sorry. Please. Hello. Goodbye. Don’t go. Stay with me. We can work this out. And so on. The walls of pride have been shattered, although a bit too late – knowing that those are the words I can no longer get to say to you…Daddy.
(@Couchsurfing Writers’ Club, Anomali Cafe, Setiabudi One, Jakarta – 24/6/2014, 8:00 – 11:00 pm)