goodbye my dear friend

Today is finally here. The day that I didn't want to think about but knew that one day, inevitably, it will come. The day that on one hand I waited for because that will mean the end of the mental torture for her closed ones but on the other, desperately rejected because it will mean a final bid of farewell. Perhaps not the end of pain for them but a closure, a moving on and a release from their worries and burden. Today I say my goodbye to her. Till we meet again.

There were only 3 friends at the funeral. After 10 years of limbo I guess many have moved on, and forgotten her. I tried to think of who to call, who to notify, but I couldn't really come up with any who will give a bloody damn. There were some who expressed such deep regrets and sympathy during the early years, but only muttered a luke warm  condolence upon receiving the news. Which got me thinking....how many people will actually mourn our death when we pass on? How many people will come to our funeral and cry their eyes out? Or to put it very simply, in our journey of life, how many people's lives have we touched? I really believed I wouldn't even have 1 (not counting our own family of course). Would she have cried for me if the situation was reversed? Would her heart break like mine? Will she miss me as much?

For the last few years i have stopped thinking about her. I visited her faithfully every birthday but it was more for her mother, to see how she is doing. She would have wanted me to do at least that for her. It will seem that her daughter did that too; to function, to live, to go on with our lives, we have put all the memories and all the longing into a small imaginary box and closed the lid tightly. i don't know how to function with all the pain, the sourness at the pit of the heart. i don't know how to smile and laugh when i miss her so much. today, however, is the day to open that box again. and all the tears that follows. it will flow again every time i think of her, i know. the sentences we never finished saying, the things we talked about doing, the past we will never have a chance of reminiscing, that last date that we never had a chance to analyse and dissect, the new memories that i never had a chance to share with her. i know she has moved on to a better place, and that only the living still hurts. and i guess in that way, i feel better. to know and believe that she has moved on to a better place.