Nineteen - Atomic Bombs

(Current Time: 1:00, 4th blk)

(Current Sounds: "Monday Morning" - Simon and Milo)

"Missing you is something that I never wanted to do.

You were always there, I was there for you too....

Don't wanna wake up monday morning..."

(For the backstory, please go to my profile and find my other blog, Melodious Nocturnes. Please read Atmosphere 15, for the euology I gave on October 31st.)

Two days ago, I had my birthday,

That same day, I attended a funeral to my late grandfather, Valente Penaranda,

He wasn't even my real grandfather. He was just this man who vowed to my mom that he'd take care of me and my sis and bro.

He was such an caring, funny, gentle man.

And now he's gone.

Have you ever gotten the strange feeling, as you watch a coffin being brought down, six feet under, that you wanted to join them in that same, cold darkness?

He wouldn't have wanted that.

But why then? 

Why did he send his birthday card so early, to raise this feeling of deep regret and resent for myself, for not realizing?

Why did he grip on to his life so hard, so stubborn not to let go?

Why leave me and the rest of his family with this excruciating pain?

I should bring myself together. It happened a week ago--I should pull myself together. Get real. Resume back the usual norm.

But how cruel would it be if I thought of those past thoughts?

He loved me enough--hell, maybe he still does--to send all his love in that pink birthday card two weeks before it happened.

He loved us enough to tell us that he was a fighter. He never gave in, even till death.

He loved his family enough to bring them together and pray for the best of his soul--and for them to be even more bonded than before.

He brought so many people together. He was a man who selflessly gave his heart out of kindness.

I... really miss him. I want to move on.

A good friend today told me that would be--excuse me here--BULLSHIT, if I let go so easily.

He's in my memories, in my thoughts. In my very heart and soul.

He never would've left me if he stamped his life's seal to be part of my life if he was there.

He loved me.

I still love him.

Forgive this post. But this is how I'm feeling... and to be quite honest, I really want some support. I'm cruel and selfish in saying this. But...

I honestly want someone to tell me its okay. To hug me and reassure me that I'm alive and that I can be who I want to be.

Like what he would've told me.

If you've made it reading this so far... thank you. That's just all I need.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.