I don’t know when it started, but, I remember having nightmares about certain people whom I care about leaving, in sequence.
I cried whilst sleeping and when I woke up, I was with hiccups of sadness and in tears, so badly, I couldn’t push those images away for weeks.
I hated it.
Never did I tell anyone about my nightmares.
But, it happens.
It happened for real.
These aren’t things that can be controlled.
Not as if I can do anything about it.
Last few days, I’ve been having dreams of one more person.
I knew something was not right.
I really hate that feeling.
This morning my aunt just passed away.
Why do I even have to go through this?
That is the freaking reason why I’m freaking who I am.
Why I always… always… since young.. ALWAYS thank God for everything every time.
For the people I know.
For the blessings.
Not to be a crap load of idiot with those I love as much as possible.
For years, I took in what my elders say and do towards me whenever they’re said/done in any negative way.
I allowed my strict mum to just scold me all she wants and treats me like a black sheep for most of my life… she’s pretty different now.
Probably knowing that I’d be away with my future husband soon.
I didn’t care.
As long as I still have her!
Because I see and feel it as though it was real.
No.. it wasn’t her in my dreams. (touch wood)
Do you know how it feels like?
Seeing someone you love right there in real life, but, you keep seeing them in the depths in your dreams?
It makes me feel remorseful all of my life.
I’m scared every time I remember.
Even if one was to say it’s supposed to be good, I still HATE IT!
To see it happen again and again.
Not once, but, a few times.
I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!
I really don’t.
I really don’t.
I seriously don’t.
The aunt who has just passed on was a sweet one.
She was very soft-spoken.
Amongst my relatives on my mother’s side, she was genuinely the nicest.
I don’t exactly trust my relatives on that end.
They seem to cause more trouble than any good in my eyes.
Because of what’s been happening all these years.
Although, they were the relatives who would poked fun at me since I was really young… cursing me jokingly.
Not that those words matter to me.
Why do most good people leave earlier than those who aren’t?