Chamber of secret, a moment to grief

Why does everyone pushes us back to quickly run, while all I want to do is slow down? I still want to sit and write you thousands of letters. I need the chamber of secret, just a moment to pour my grief.

I miss you and I cry myself to sleep, manipulate myself to think that maybe you’re just temporarily gone and in a few days will eventually come back home. One day, you’re gonna knock on my door again and ask ‘what do you want for lunch?’ — But you won’t be there anymore.

66 years is a long time, you’ve met a lot of versions of yourself. A teenager, an adult, then become a husband and beloved father. But you only spent 22 years with me, you haven’t seen the other version of me, the other version who might make you even prouder.

I was in the denial phase the moment I saw you collapse, the hero whom I look up to the most started to crumble down, and so does my world. I wish I could give you more hugs long before you’re gone, I wish I could hold your hand whenever we’re going somewhere, and I wish I could say how much I love you all this time.

But knowing that you’re gone in good condition and on a good day helps me to be in the acceptance phase, I believe that right now you’re in a beautiful place. However, I still miss you a bit more and will bawl my eyes out whenever it’s raining, cause rain reminds me of the time you were gone.

I’ll stare at our picture and watch our video all over again, so I will always remember the feature of your face and the softness of your voice.