7th december 2010, tuesday

Dear Summer,



The day started off badly. Pretty normal, really. None of my days were really great since you were gone. Especially now that I’m home, and had been for one month, everything’s getting worst. I still feel guilty. I’m still regretting. I still can’t believe that you’re really gone. That I won’t be able to see you again, see your smile, listen to your talking, and even laugh at you jokes. That’s what I miss the most about you. Your jokes- they could brighten up my darkest days, even when you didn’t know you’re doing it, or intended to. You just did.


When I’m at school, I saw you everywhere. At the canteen, sitting and having your small lunch at the first table in the middle. In the hallways, slouching your shoulders as you walk past doors after doors to the next class you’ll be in. In the staff room, where you sit and look around looking bored, just trying to pass the time, waiting for the school hours to end, so could go home and get to your own business.


But they were all just that- a memory. An image of you I created myself to help me through all of this. Imagining this to be normal and still having you around helps to ease the pain. I imagined that you’re still here, being the imam for our Zohor, Maghrib and Isya’ prayers. I imagined that you would be the one to take our class when the teacher who was supposed to come couldn’t make it. Just like old times. Yeah, just like when you were still alive.


It’s terrible.


The moment I got the news, I refused to believe it. I told myself time and time again that it was just some mean joke people were making. You couldn’t be dead already. You were barely 21, and still have your whole life ahead you. I insisted to think that you were still breathing, still alive. That I would meet you again when school starts, laugh at your jokes, make fun of you and will still time to apologize to you. To say sorry for all the mistakes I’d done. To hear you reciting the azan every day. Scolding us when we’re being noisy in the MUFAZ.


But sooner or later I had to. I had to believe it.


Slowly, I accepted the fact. But it’s too painful; it almost felt like a big part of me was ripped away. Like a big sword slashed on my heart and left the biggest gas there. I swear, my heart could be bleeding from all this pain.


The days felt empty. The hours ticked by. Nights and days passed like a blur. And all of us were left with no chance to repent for all our mistakes.


It was a hard time. The hardest thing I had to deal with.


And I still haven’t gotten over it yet. Until now.


I just miss you, big brother. I miss you a lot.