all that is left for me...
a white, very white shirt, M size fitting... I've never seen nor had a chance to touch. He wore it the first time we talked. I still remember, every tiny little detail. I know it's somewhere here or there. Somewhere, waiting for me. But where is it? Is it well taken cared of or left unappreciated, crumbled and unloved?
an unread letter... I wonder what he wanted to tell me, the very last minute of his life before all said and done, before he embarked on the train of no turning back. I wonder... and keep wondering... his hand writing. Will I be able to read, beyond black and white? beyond words, truth and lies, fact and fiction? Will I? I keep wondering.
These are the two utter most precious treasures that are left for me. Yet, I refused to trade his My Linh for them, what is more important, memories of the past or the future? I did not know, till I realized how much his death transformed me. I am still overwhelmed every time I realize he had already walked away. This particular fact still does, hit me so hard I wonder when I would get very used to it, so used to it I would just stop feel the sharp pain coming somewhere out of my chest... Maybe one day, maybe soon, maybe much later. Maybe right this instant but maybe ever... But the greatest gift he gave which saved me from falling from grace remains. He did not give me his 2 last years on earth as he said: 2 years, till I am 21. But I wonder, if I had not been withOUT him for the past 2 years, would I learn this much, grow this strong, be this sure about who I am and what I want?
I remember crying most of the time. He left me an ocean of tears which I have never known of. The last night we talked, on receiving the news, on my 18th birthday and such, I asked myself why all these memories, so sweet and so dear to my heart can bring me so much regret and sorrow. I remember biting my lips so no one hear me cry. I would love to keep these tears for myself. Wish that he above all the people would not see it. No more undone business, he can proceed to the other sky await, above the earth, the part of the universe where I would never be with him or maybe yes, but much much later. "How are you?" How hard it is now to know something so simple I just want to be assured that he is happy.
I just want a sign... a sign to let me know he is ok. As long as he is ok...
...
in many years they may forget the love of ours, or that we met... they may not know how much you meant to me...
...
Supposedly 21 years old... Happy birthday to you! Supposedly today, we would part. Supposedly I had fate on my side, supposedly I had 2 years of your life to convince you that I was capable of loving you: your sorrow and pain, your utter childishness and matturity, your smile, your laughter, your carelessly burned food... that you did not have to go, this way. But who I am to judge? When the pain is excruciating, bringing you misery and pains, where was I? What did I do for you but making you worried.... someone to care for not someone who was capable of caring for you
Look at me! I am everything I am today, because you love me. Thak you for being the flamboyant sky enveloping me, protecting me. For who you were, and who you are, always in my memories, I have learned to be more than just myself, more than just the girl who was hit twice by cars, fainted continually uncer the sun... I am grateful... we met.
I miss you? How absurd, missing is a totally understatement. You are in my thoughts, my prayer.... a part of me.
