Sunday, August 12, 2007

Detached

Emotionally fickle and weak as an individual entity, people tend to seek attachment to all sorts of things around them, be it another person, an object or even a lingering memory. For now, as I feel detached from some of the things I love the most, I feel empty.

Today was really nice. Shopping with my fav YiMa and just eating. Until we started talking abt my dear Uncle Philip who is watching over me from up above. I thought I could talk about him leisurely and just indulge myself with memories of him. Then I realized that although time healed the pain and sadness in dealing with the loss of him, it can never make me stop missing him or wish for him to be here rite now.

Little things make me shed a tear or two when it comes to this special person.

To talk about him with past tense.
To hear others mention that I had always been his favourite.
To be reminded of the countless happy and funny moments we shared.
To have flashbacks of some bad habits of him.
To still remember our last conversation.

I really miss him.
After so long, I feel like I was never willing to let him go.

To buy the instant noodles favoured by him.
To occassionally remind myself of how his voice sounded like.
To play images of various memories we had.
To be happy whenever I had a dream of him.

More than memories, I wish to talk to him. All the crap we used to spend time on. I wish to hug him. Or have him carry me the way he used to. I really wanna hear his voice.

Having lost someone I was so attached to, I began holding on to all traces of memories, or even objects, afraid to let them all fade as time goes by.

I am not sad anymore for his departure for I have accepted this fact.
And I wonder why I still cry over it now.
With this feeling indescribable, maybe I am just acting childish. To be crying over something I can never get.

I am not detached from him, I'm sure. As long as I preserve the memories we had well in my heart, I am sure we are connected somehow.

Another sadder thing is how detached I feel rite now to things I have. Be it emotionally or physically. Some of my family members. Some special ones in my life. Some people I meet everyday. This room of mine. This world, perhaps.

But it is alrite, for I will be able to make it through.
Like I'm sure he'll say,"Fei Chai."
If I ever tell him all these.

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