I'm writing as if I hope these words will reach you. it's funny, because you always complained that I never texted you enough while you were around. and now, only when you're dead and gone, I'm writing long long messages to you. messages that you'll never actually read. isn't that ironic? I think it's so ironic.
you're not in pain anymore, and that was all I wanted for you. to stop hurting. for me to stop hurting you.
I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you in your last moments. I would have stopped you again if I was there. and then the pain would just go on and on and on.
let's talk about the future first, because memories are too hard to talk about. the new bird park will be opening on 8th may 2023. I mean, you knew that. you told me that. and we were supposed to go there together, just like how we went to the old one together. you just sent me this photo a few weeks ago; I still had pink hair then.
7th june. your birthday. I wanted to send you a gift. I hadn't really thought about what exactly I would have sent you yet. I told you I would have sent you something anyway, but since now you'll never receive it, I don't have to think about it anymore. it would probably have been turtle-related. might be something from a beach. where is the die that I gave you while we were in phuket? I know you held onto it. you held onto every useless thing I collected and gave you. even my white hairs off my head.
you were supposed to be here in june/july. I was really looking forward to that. I told you I'd have a place for you here if you ever decided to come. but you can't decide that anymore, so I think I might go back to sg instead; I can't stand being here alone, knowing that you were supposed to be here with me. I told you I'd go to marine parade and sit there at the void deck of your hdb block. other places I wanted to sit at were the rock at ecp, and I'd wander through cbtl and mcdonalds as well. thinking about it hurts so I have to stop for now. and I might not have the strength to do that this year, or maybe ever. idk.
I just stopped typing for a hot minute. nobody told winni you dum. you didn't give freda a way to contact her. I just had to tell her that you were gone. ur such a dum.
25 April 2023, 9:34PM, Sydney:
time has frozen in place for me. everything has felt unreal since you've been gone. I will always be 23-24 years old, living life with you. y'know how time kinda stops while you're on holiday? something like that, but this holiday doesn't have an end.
I typed a bunch of things, but all of what I was saying was so ironic I had to delete it. but I want to remember, so here it is:
things like, I could be talking to anyone in the world right now, but I only want to talk to you.
and things like, you're so cruel.
and things like, this was exactly what I doing to you.
and thoughts like, are you giving me a taste of my own medicine? is this what it is?
and thoughts like, your pain never really went away when you died. it just transferred onto me, and everyone else who loved you. (and how can you do that to someone you claimed to love that much?)
and thoughts, that it was really such a lot of pain for one person to carry. and I'm sorry this is the moment I understand it, only when it doesn't mean anything to understand it anymore.
I don't have to filter my words now that you can't be angry at me.