Last night, in the midst of my bedtime routine, a mere thought struck me: I'm 40 this year. And it quickly manifested into grief when a sense of profound loss slowly find it's way into my conscious mere thought.
I have ever imagined how growing old with my sister and our families would be like. Will we still like each other or will we drift? Will we have petty quarrels or make silly jokes? Will we be the best of friends or will we not bear the sight of each other? Will we reminisce and chat about life? Will we like cooking for each other and being companions? Will we live closeby or poles apart? What do I do with all these regrets and lifelong wishes I have buried along with her death? How do I go on another 40 years missing you and the time we'll never get to spend together, the jokes we'll never make, the food we'll never cook for each other, the love we'll never share again...
I'm still trying to heal my heart while living life and raising a family. I wish in the next 40 years of my life I'll have no more heartaches that I cannot bear.
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