An Open Letter to My Number One Fan

To the person who always know what to do how ever difficult the situation is, to the person who never ceased to believe in me despite my shortcomings and defects, to the person who always makes me see the good out of the bad, to the person who drives me, inspires me to achieve and to do better, to the person who never lived a day without being proud of me…
It has been three months. Three months without you.

The first month felt like nothing happened. The house still felt like a home. It was as if you just did the groceries or you just went out to see a client. It felt like at the end of the day, I’d still see you. At the end of the day, I’d still be able to talk to you. At the end of the day, I’d still be able to hug you and to kiss you and to tell you stories about how my day went.
The next day after we went home from the crematorium, your youngest sister visited us at home. She asked me, “Where’s your mom?” I stared at her for a few seconds; I didn’t know how to respond. Then I realized she was not asking where you are. She was asking where your urn is. Wake up call number one.
The second month was a blur. I know it was filled with problems, worries, and fears, but I cannot remember how I was, how everyone around me was. The second month was all blank.
By the third month, the house started to feel empty and cold. With the unfamiliar embrace of sadness, I realized how lost I have become. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what will make me feel better. I hate talking to people. I hate being with people. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to quit everything. I can’t find the drive to achieve. All positive energy seems to have been vacuumed out of my system and my reasoning faculty has become dysfunctional.
Now, the holiday season’s here and I’m starting to hate it too. It’ll be the first one without you; the first one when I’ll be reminiscing the memories we’ve made rather than creating new ones.
Mom, it’s so sad. I’m lost, empty and everything in between. I’m in so much pain, and I need you so bad right now. I feel so weak. I need you here beside me. Hug me. I want to rest in your arms after months of crying.
I do not know how to end this letter as I still have a lot of things to say to you, but I guess I’d keep the those between the two of us. Please visit me in my dreams, mom. I miss you so much.


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