lolo

A more focused piece to my lolo.

The stars are crashing. The sky itself seems to be crushing me. The pressure has been built, and my world is going to implode. It’s inevitable now, every tic and tock sends knife after murderous knife into my belly. The butterflies in my belly have morphed into locus eating away at my insides. But the saddest part is that my heart is beating without its usual beautiful bliss, rather every beat it slowly begins to break. Suddenly nothing else matters, although I’ve known for so long. Pretending to act like I have plenty of time, fronting like I would be fine. Yet, I failed at almost everything. I could not pretend and act, I have no time and I won’t be okay. The daylight seems so dull. Smiling itself is in arduous task, my cheeks are sore from forcing it. And my eyes are tired from releasing the wells out.

My lolo sits in his hospital bed, unable to do anything for himself. Can’t breathe, can’t eat, he certainly can’t live. He can’t think any longer, his ability to remember long behind him. I asked a friend a question: I wonder what was the last thing he remembered about me. It was only a few months ago when he was still able to speak, remember little things about me. Barely even able to remember my name. I would make sure to smile every time I’d see him. I wonder if he misses me in his unconscious mind. I miss speaking to him. There were certain times where I should’ve spent more time with him. Moments that I can’t redo. Life is the course, time is the teacher. I have learned a lot, but it took its toll on me. I’m about to lose what I kept so close, and I’m more full of regrets than I am of happy moments. Everyone can tell me that it’s natural when facing the losing of a loved one. But I feel so guilty. I’ve been asked this before, and I’ve written in response to it, where have I been? A question in a different context, less drama with an extra shot of reality. But my lolo wouldn’t let me be this depressed. I know I should be using what he taught me. Keep pushing ahead, make your choices, live and learn, make better ones next time and don’t ever look back in grief. He was such a stubborn man, never staying satisfied. Always hard working even when he should’ve retired, a true role model for his children. Even now, when nature is against him, brain shrinking and every system breaking down, infected and failing, his body fights for his life. He taught me that my best can always be better and that finding your potential is a progressive, ongoing thing.  His philosophy that he proves time and again, and will continue to until his last breath. I need a vacation to my dreamlands, away from this life that turned into a nightmare.

stay fly

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