06 December 2015

A Letter To A Dead Friend


Dear Val,

I miss you.

I’m sorry if my way of remembering you is opposite to what is supposed to be done. I’m writing to tell you of my misfortunes. I failed again. As I write this I am feeling so afraid. Really – really afraid mostly with myself. I don’t trust my instinct anymore. I lost my drive to keep on moving. I forgot that I can get up on my own if ever I stumble. I forgot that I have two hands that I can use to balance my body before my face hit the ground should I accidentally fall.


Your death reminds me that there is still hope for me. If you were alive you would never waste a time. You would do everything with your might and willpower to be good of whatever you wished to be. Now I remember why I was so damned confident of myself when we were in high school. Unknowingly, you shared your enthusiasm in life with me. You never give up. You managed to be the top three of our class even though you lack school books. You always find a way. You were so resourceful. You never complain about what you lack in public. You confided you are tired, but there was no hint of giving up. Just tired that’s all.

The last time I talk to you, you said you were getting better. I had hope that it was true. I never confirmed with our other friends if you really are getting back to your healthy self. Then days after your birthday you passed away. I learned through Facebook about the sad news. I have to confirm it with Letty since she is the nearest in your place. I prayed that it was a joke. But it was not. She confirmed it so as your sister. You are gone.

You are gone.

I am still here. I can still breathe.

I still have the chance to redeem myself. I can be a woman of my own if I will allow it. I hope you are here. You always know what to say.

I miss you. 

I will always remember December 2014.

Love,
Jhecel



Disclosure: Photo source. In order to give privacy to the real people, I have changed their name. Any similarity of names and events are purely incidental.

1 comment

© Jhecel Ogtip
Maira Gall