the longest weekend

i would never thought of myself saying this, or feeling anything less than happy to have a long weekend. but this time, is the exception. i wished i have things to look forward to, things that brings back my ever-present father. he was always there, in everything i do. at home, in the phone, everywhere. everything i do, i see, i hear reminds me of his being. he always asks too much, out of pure concern. he never left anything unsolved in work or in the family, except for a few childhood promises he made just to shut me up from asking for more. i dont mind about all that now. in fact, i dont mind about any of it - at all. all i cared about is for him to give me a hint about anything, anything at all. his repetitive advice. his loving-but-at-the-same-time-annoying-threatening calls to come here, even when we were few steps/seats next to him. his firm reassurance. i miss.

now, it is the feeling of nostalgia. it is the feeling that follows; that bottomless desperation of never getting him back, never being the same. that feeling of memories fading away. it is those moments in life we take for granted that count. the ones that fall away too quickly. the ones that leave us in the dark, grasping for that last redeeming thread of hope.


these anguish, these unsaid unnamed unfinished business and feeling, i could not feel and could have no control of. 


i cannot.