after her leaving

So much that has happened over the past few months, and I wonder how the world to me could mean so little to someone else. I think what I have realised is that even as time goes on, no matter what happens the world does not stop for you. People will still continue living life, falling in love, falling apart, falling down from buildings, going in and out of places, buying new things, disposing of things; go to work, climb a mountain, start anew.

We keep growing bit by bit, and despite all, I do still wish people would have cared enough to show a little care to me. I am incredibly blessed in the sense that I would not be here today without them. But still I am stuck and fixated on the parts they were not. I wish I would be able to conjure the end of the crossing of our paths. People in our lives come and go, and it is perhaps selfish of me to think that I could keep them forever. Maybe it's just time to let go of them, instead I feel like I'm forcing them to stay when they themselves do not wish to.

I think a lot about the words 'purpose', 'meaning', 'value'. All the sorts. What the words themselves bring and how to quantitatively measure it. I wonder if anything that I am doing is even of value, of meaning, of purpose? I don't feel passion or enthusiasm for much of what I do anymore, much less life. I'm not giving up on it, but much so pondering if I am where I should be. I always pour myself into the wrong people, the wrong things. I always feel like everything I try and invest in are futile.

Suppose we should still look forward to what we have and have yet to lose. Little blessings harbour itself in the most unexpected and unseen places. But somehow it almost feels absurd to be happy or celebratory over anything since the loss of her. How can people celebrate life when I am still mourning over the loss of one? Life in itself has its way of contradictory and irony. Who knew absence could occupy so much space?

Every year I feel myself being forgotten more and more. I wonder what sorts I'd be up to on my birthday this year to make myself feel less so. Much so, I wonder if I'd even still be around. I ball up those thoughts, the burden of imminence and tuck them away in my dresser drawer, tidy and unheard.