What’s Left But A Memory

when i change my blog to wordpress, i make a promise to myself to never write emotional posts, which is the sole reason i put off writing any entry, till now.

sometimes i can’t help but wonder if it’s somehow my fault. if i think of you more often, if i’ve reply your texts more often, if i put in an extra prayer or two at night, if i have not forgotten about the fifteenth day of lunar calendar, if i pay more attention to little things, if i have been nicer to people around me. even though logic shows that it can’t possibly be my fault, no matter how we see it, so tell me this: why do feel like it is?

all week, i’ve been searching for the one word to express how i feel, and i realise, no words could possibly define my feelings. each day, i make myself so busy that i’m too exhausted to feel. too exhausted to remember the news that changes my life.

maybe it’s by experience, maybe it’s by nature, it doesn’t matter which, but i have the ability of blocking out sorrow when surrounded by people, especially friends. avoidance. something i actually good at. the times when i momentarily forget what holds me back and live in the present.

i think i found the word i’m looking for. it’s n.u.m.b .

for, i don’t know what to feel anymore.


3 thoughts on “What’s Left But A Memory

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