28, and at Home
When I heard about your leaving for that Better Place on Friday, a whole slew of emotions welled up within me. I was happy for you, and yet sad that you have left. I was relieved for your family and loved ones, and yet could not bear to think of how much tears and hurt they must be going through right now. I was, and still am, in disbelief. Who leaves at the age of 28? You're the first one in my life who just did. I saw you last night, and today as well. You looked like a 70-year-old man, a person I could not have recognized if I had not seen a photo of you just a few days before. I gave you a flower, knowing that this flower was going to die and be burnt, mixed with ashes. And memories. Yet, not a tear was shed on my part. Oh, my heart felt so heavy, like someone had taken it with both hands and had begun to wring it tight. Over and over again. I heard your mother calling out to you, asking you to come back. But you did not. You could not. Do I even have the right to feel sad? I h...