Water

For all the time I spent cultivating these friendships and relationships, for all the time I spent cultivating the people I love

There seems to be no one who remembers the pain and loss I feel on days like today. 

Or even everyday. There seems to be no one watering me, thinking about it. 

Just like your friends vanished away after you died, I wonder, if by being enduring and forgiving like you, I'll have the same destiny that you did mum.

I know, I'm the protagonist of my story, and they all have their own stories to be protagonists in. 

But it's awfully lonely being the protagonist in this story. It seems like in this world, this small world of mine, I'm the only one witnessing my breath, my pain, my loss. It feels like without a mother, there's no one in the world who is looking out for me, hurting for me, missing me, enduring with me. 

If this is what grief does to a person by entering their reality, I can't help but resent it. I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Isn't 22 far too young to endure so much, all alone? Isn't 22 far too young to feel lonely at? Isn't 22 too young to think it was all for nothing. Isn't 22 far too young to doubt the present, to be unable of dreaming of a future?