A Decade. 10 Years. 120 Months. 3653 Days. I wanted say who’s counting. But looks like even if I wasn’t, life was. That’s how long it has been. I don’t want to count the hours, minutes or seconds. Because to me, it feels like just this morning. Maybe to my sister it feels like a few hours ago. And to my mom it might feel like just a second ago. I cannot speak for them, I don’t want to. But yeah. It’s been that long since we last heard your voice. Since we last saw your smiling face. Since I last had you respond to my calling “Papa”. For anyone who is going through a loss and asking themselves “Will it hurt less as time flies?”, My answer, 10 years later, are my wet eyes and running nose. Is it weird that I am in tears as I type this 10 years later; while I was able to hold them back 10 years ago on this day? (I still don’t know how I did it, maybe because you once had asked me to) Maybe. Maybe not. I am in no mood to psychoanalyze myself. “Time heals....
There is an inner self to everyone. You might speak, speak a lot; but yet there would be so many things unsaid, so many thoughts not shared, so many emotions hidden; well, here I am - where my silence speaks...