August 19, 2015

I came home from school awhile ago only to find my brother alone in the house. Turns out, my parents went out to go to the doctor because my mom wasn’t feeling well. High blood pressure. Stress. Stuff like that.

She’s okay now but I can’t help but think about that look on her face awhile ago filled with pain and agony. And I can’t help but cry. This was supposed to be a fun night because I was planning to watch today’s missed episode of the Kalyeserye but I ended up lying on my bed, crying and contemplating about what shall become of me when my mom goes.

I don’t really talk to my mom about the sad things that happened in my life. Usually I talk to her about the latest gossip inside my circle of friends or the random people that annoy me. I never talked to her about heartbreaks and disappointments and all those stuff that I find heavy. As much as possible, I avoid them afraid of letting her carry a burden. She’s got enough of that so I don’t really want to add more.

Most of the time it’s the other way around: She would be the one talking about these things and I would quietly listen. Sometimes she would cry and sometimes she’s raise her tone. But it was always me who would sit still and listen.

And with that, I always thought of myself as someone who would be strong enough for her so she’d have someone to pour her heart out to. But I guess I’m not as strong as I think I’ve always been. I just thought of her and the tears start welling up. I don’t think I can handle if she ever leaves me. Without her, I’m just plain lost.

I believe, at this very moment I cannot compose proper sentences anymore. The feelings I’m having are just too sad that I feel like I’m failing to use better words to echo them. So I’ll probably leave it like this.

I don’t feel like talking, anyway.


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