Two Years Ago

After he died, I never shed a single tear. I went silent all around the house, be my hyper self at school. Those who knew, knew. Those who didn't, I held back my tongue.

Answered some questions about his death ("Dehydration," I shrugged.) and nodded my thanks for the condolences I received. Choked on my tongue whenever everything seemed to remind me of him (Kak Syafaf suggested we go to a park soon and I was brimming with the idea of taking him along when I remembered he was no longer around). My eyes watered in front of some, but that was all.

People didn't love him like I did, and I understand they didn't see my sadness as something serious. That didn't mean I was comfortable.

They talked so casually of him, laughed and made jokes about him at my expense. I was silent. I knew the root of all evil is not talking, but I couldn't bring myself to tell them I was hurt. I couldn't deal with the aftermath of their stricken face, apologizing repetitively and gushing with sympathy. It was too awkward for me.

He was never my pet. I was never his mom. He was my roommate whom I talked to on occasion and regarded as a younger brother. He amused me sometimes and gave meaning to coming back to my room.

"Yuuno!" I greeted him elatedly as I slowly slammed open the door, in case he was behind it.

It was a relationship of shared smiles, secret glances, and simple moments. One-sided, of course.

We didn't talk much. But he was there. Whatever happened, be it bad or catastrophe, he was there. He was, literally, a stable presence in my life.

A week after he died, I cleaned his pen. Wet-tissued the whole pen floor and wiped his water and food tray. Arranged all the pebbles I brought home from Bahariya and emptied the sand onto his water tray.

Stared at his usual lying spot, hands on my hip. Then it dawned on me that he was gone. Gone.

Forever. Never coming back.

I'll never get to see him appreciating the gifts I brought back for him. I'll never get the chance to be kind to him, to feel his cold shell on my palm and to frown at him for peeing on the carpet. Never get the chance to fuss over him, to glare people for putting him on his back, to be amused at him sleep-walking.

Never get the chance to talk about him lovingly. To lose to him in our who-live-longer competition.

I cried.

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P/S: This was written on this date two years ago, a week after Yuuno died. I still hold him in content.