#.development.

[jnghnna]

31/08/2015 ; 10:36 pm.

We went to visit her today, for what would be the last time; to say goodbye. I’m glad that my aunt went with me, too. I don’t think I could have handled this situation without her.

She took her last breath at 9.21pm. I was looking at the clock because I couldn’t face her. It felt wrong to watch how she slipped right through my fingers.

미안해. 

Rest in peace.

사랑해.

[jnghnna]

22/08/2015 ; 7:30 pm.

I am tired.

My mind is all over the place. She’s not going to wake up again, the doctors basically promised me as much. I think it could be worse; at least now she receives the peace she’s been looking for her entire life. I called my aunt. She said she would come and visit me soon so that we could discuss what’s going to happen next. But I know it’s either keeping her alive by force or allowing her to pass away quickly and without any pain. I’m not too sure what I’d pick so I’ll let my aunt decide.

But at the very least I think I’m finally adjusting to my new situation. Even though I hadn’t dreamt of ... things turning out to be like this, it’s fine. I am fine. For how much longer? I don’t know. Right now, I’m only taking things the way they come to me.

University’s okay, I suppose. We don’t have so many assignments and the teachers count more on our cooperation when it comes to lessons and homework, but other than that it’s the usual. A few projects here and there, two oral presentations that are due next month. I’m doing fine so far, the work helps me to keep myself busy and distracted. Speaking of which, everything at work is going fine too. We just celebrated our annual party and the boss was very pleased, to say the least. He also complimented me for taking up the organisation all by myself, and even hinted at a possible promotion. Maybe I’ll be assigned to desk work now, instead of dealing with customers on the phone. That would certainly be a lot nicer.

I guess you could say things are starting to go a different path now.

[jnghnna]

10/06/2015 ; 5:11 pm.

I want to sleep, but sleep is a blessing I can’t afford.

I’ve been feeling so overwhelmingly tired lately and it seems this fatigue has settled in my bones and refuses to let go; it’s like opening a book and waiting for something great to happen, but all you do is stare and stare without being able to truly comprehend the words. I feel like my life has come to that, too. Watching the clock, waiting for the hands to move so that this day may pass. Then sleep, and repeat everything in a never ending cycle. 

I can’t even go to the hospital anymore or maybe I just can’t find the strength to do so. The doctor said her chances at getting better are slim because those cells have been activated years ago and are now unfolding their cruel impact; I know their intentions are good, but she’s dying and nobody can prevent that from happening. Death is reaching out its bony fingers and steadily curling them around her pretty neck and I can see every time I visit just how paler she gets, like something is succeeding in slowly chocking her.

Is it a crime to feel relieved? I’ve read in books that watching a loved one fading away is going to shatter your bones and leave your heart with an unbearable emptiness but I can’t seem to feel any of those things. If anything, I’m too apathetic about all this - and I’m ashamed of this feeling. She is dying and all I’m doing is sitting here and writing down what I am too afraid to voice. 

I wonder if that is how she felt when he left her. 

There is something I need to do: I need to write more. I need to write about the delicate happiness that slips through your fingers, about the smile that is etched onto someone’s features when luck crawls into their life. About reciprocated love that has your cheeks colored a bright pink whilst you are flashing a grin at anyone that walks by. About the genuine and tender kindness that can only be displayed by a pure being whose life is still too precious to be ruined, about the moment you come home to the ones you love only to be greeted by laughter and contentment. 

I wish I could write like this. Have liquid happiness spilling from my fingertips. 

But I can’t.