I’ve never really associated April 5th with anything good, and this has only compounded since five years ago today.
I can’t believe it’s really been half a decade already. It feels like it’s been so much longer, especially if you use my rapidly degenerating Cantonese as an indicator.
I wonder if you know that I often forget and still pray for you each night, that I still have dreams that you’re here and I imagine talking to you, getting your advice, learning how to cook from you and telling you what’s been going on in my life since you’ve been gone. I wonder how much I wish that these conversations were real. I’d like to think that you’d be proud of me, that you’d be happy, especially in regards to what I ended up choosing to do with my life.
I guess they were somewhat right in saying that things heal with time. That overwhelming feeling of loss and the gaping hole left in my life after we lost you isn’t quite so obviously there anymore, but I still love and miss you every day.