Loss.

        It's been a hectic week. A call received on Tuesday morning (160413). The kind that I disliked the most. The rush back home. The long wait. The anger and frustration. The responsibility. The lack of sleep. The decision. The last breath in front of me. The uncontrollable fits of cries. The extreme fatigue. The duties. The end. All in one week. It's as though I've aged ten years in a week.

        Then we're back to normal cycle of life. Wake up, study, eat, shit, shower, sleep. As though nothing has happened at all. I dare not think, for I'm afraid of my own thoughts. 

        And because I don't want to burden anyone with my relentless repeats of how miserable I feel, I tried to talk about other stuffs. Then I realised, there's nothing else I want to say. So I become quiet. Mindless. And carrying around air so heavy I can't breathe. The one person I hope to be by my side will never be. The only yearning. Never mind, life goes on.