Grieving

I posted my last post about my dad’s passing on Facebook and people are reacting and commenting. In a way, I find it comforting, to see people care.

I’ve also gone to visit dad’s tomb in Loyola; it badly needs some TLC and I’m going to work on that once I get my employment requirements done.

I’m so tired of crying. I’m so tired of feeling like my heart is breaking and I can’t breathe.

And all I really want right now is to talk to my brother about it.

But… I don’t know how.

Which is why I am writing this instead.

One day, if you read this little brother, I want you to know, I needed you today.

I needed you to listen and let me talk; when you borrowed that P 500 and told me that you were leaving for work early, and I wanted to let you know that I need you to give your share because the electric bills are due, and you couldn’t give me a chance to finish talking, with your voice rising, and your face crumpling into a frown, and your body language just shouts “I want to get out of this fast!” and all you really cared about was the money… You broke my heart.

And now you’re coming in and out of your room, with my door open. I am waiting for you, little brother. I told you I went to dad’s and you asked me why. I told you it’s May 2.

It’s May 2! It’s freaking May 2! He  — our father — died on May 2!

Or have you forgotten?

Or don’t you care?

You can see me crying right now, and you keep yourself locked in your room. I don’t know why.

And I’m too scared to ask, because you might hurt me even more than I am already hurting.

I hate this day and all it signifies, and I wish I could share it with you because you’re the ONLY PERSON WHO WOULD GET IT.

Mom’s loss is different from ours; she at least had more moments with him.

You and I pretty much had the same amount, and more importantly, we were his children.

We both share half of him in us.

And I really just… I wanted my brother.

If you haven’t noticed, I kept asking you yesterday if you were coming home.

I needed you. I need you.

But even if our rooms are right beside each other, even if I am merely a few steps away from you, we might as well be in different oceans.

Planets, even.

And it’s sad.

Still, I’ll be okay. I’ll post this on my blog and move on.

And when the time comes, that you’d need me… I WILL be there, little brother.

I promise.

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