Death and all his friends

There are more than two sides to every story. 

And a story will always have a purpose, a meaning, and a possible motive.

It may translate negatively to others, even to those who are within the universe of the story.

But you can't fully judge someone else's life. Even if you're remotely part of it, or even if you are well within the circle. 

There's absolutely no way that you can ever know how someone feels.

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I never got to tell you how much I loathe the many moments you neglected me.

I never got to tell you how much I am saddened by your recurring soar situation with mom.

I never got to tell you that being at home with you scares the shit out of me, and more often than not, I hate it when you're there.

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Countless times that I've thought about running to you just to ask how you are.

Countless times that I wondered if you will ever find a way to patch things up.

Countless times I dreamed about having a "normal" relationship with you.

But it never happened

And it will never happen.

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What if I made a move?

What if I put down my pride and tell you everything?

What if I tried?

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I'm sorry for the many failed attempts, and the many years that I didn't even think about attempting.

I'm sorry for never reaching your standards for me.

I'm sorry for fueling my heart with hate all these years.

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I will always be grateful for how you raised me, no matter how selfish it was.

I am grateful for having you as my dad.

I am grateful for having to know you as this brilliant doctor who was always willing to help anybody.

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I pray you are happy, safe and comfortable.

I don't even know why I think of you a lot, when I'm probably the last person on your mind.

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I miss you.

I miss being scared of your presence.

I miss knowing that I can easily rely on an on-call doctor to take care of our illness.

I miss longing for you, for the possibility of having a better relationship with you.

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None of my words matter anymore.

I can't even fully describe how it is to lose a parent.

Grief has so many layers to it that will only be understood once you experience it.

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It feels like an infinite loop.

But at rare moments that you sort of forget that you lost someone -- the guilt creeps in.

Indeed an endless struggle.

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One thing I've learned now that I never got to fully comprehend before.

Is that you never truly forget everything. 

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You only really learn how to live with the pain.

The grief lives on, and becomes part of who you are.

Eternally, until it's your time.

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We all end up in our own graves.

Death has become more real to me now, having experienced this.

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But death and all his friends are always among us.

To remind us how precious and short life is.

And how important it is to love and to forgive.

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Do not let hate grow in your heart.

No matter how awful that person may have been to you.

Forgive them, if only for you.

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We all end up in our own graves.

It's the hardest pill to swallow, but it's true.

If another life exists,  who knows?

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But all we have is today. 

You are who you are - today.

Tomorrow is never guaranteed.