These 3 days had been a struggle. But to swim against the current of memories in the months or years to come, now that’s a battle.
And this trip to Japan, I had intended it to be an escapism but in the metaphorical sense, to take flight from everything ordinary here for a little while, not taking leave from the pain. Then again, I hadn’t been wishing it right. I just prayed for an escape, not thinking about what I wanted to run from.
Like this image that frozen in my mind now. The picture of me bent over her, with the words ‘I love you’ perched on my lips but never tumbled down them. All I could say was that asking her to rest well and I would be back again to visit the next day. I never got that chance.
The bitterness of the letters is still on my tongue and the icicles formed on the image are stabbing my mind.
I never thought I would ever experience this; regret over words left unsaid.
Could I dump my heart at home during my trip to Japan? One luggage is heavy enough; don’t need to carry another one in my chest.
The worst part is, I can't cry. I'm not that sort of person. Instead of painting everything on a canvas just to get it off me, I weave it tightly into me, even dark emotions, until time comes and undo the stitches. Like an incense, it burns excruciatingly slowly and eats from the insides while a skin-thin layer of ash forms, then falls with a little shake.
I don't know how much it would hurt when I eventually plow through the memories but I at least I know it would make me stronger.
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