I was broken-hearted the day Mama told me that you were gone. The worst news was, it happened months ago. I didn’t even know. I didn’t even remember what I was doing the day you were gone. And somehow, it kills every single cell in my body. That I wasn’t even there. To hold your hand for the very last time. To kiss you goodbye. To let you go. They left me you in a gravestone. They left me you buried in a graveyard. They left me.. speechless.
I remember that day when I knew you were gone. I was crying. Not too hard, because I just can’t. I knew how broken-hearted Mama was. I just can’t let her see how bad it was for me. So I left home. Texted my girls, and just sat there. Sitting, burning cigarette over cigarette. Silently crying. I can’t talk. Completely speechless.
Last year, somebody told me that you were there in a room with me on another form. If it was true, sure you’d seen me cry. I missed you. He said, you were smiling at me. Seeing me from the corner of the room. I cried harder.
Tonight, I suddenly thought of you. I am missing you. I don’t know if you heard me, but deep down my heart, I’m calling you. Please tell me you are here. Somehow. Please hold me and don’t let me go. Please hug me tightly because I’ve spend years craving for one. Please tell me that you’re okay. Please kiss me one more time. Or just smile at me. Because I miss you and I can’t stop crying as I write this. Because I haven’t got the chance to tell you that I love you, that I am sorry for being a very lousy daughter. Because I haven’t got the chance to introduce you to my son.. I miss you, Ayah.. Badly.