ambivalence

It’s been exactly a year since the passing of my roommate of 3 years and friend of 15 years. We were never really close, but I felt her presence in major turning points of my life. We grew up in the same condominium grounds and entered the same primary and secondary school. I even followed her to Seattle just a few years after she enrolled in UW, and lived with her under the persuasion of her mother. She was like the elder sister I never had, and an academic role model who excelled in all areas, socially and everything else. She was an alluring beauty. She was close to perfection.

The phone call I received from my mother in October last year changed everything. My ears have never heard anything so foreign and my brains could not register the news. Until now, I don’t think I accepted the fact that she’s truly gone, because somehow I feel that she’s still alive out there somewhere. Or maybe I’m just in denial that someone who was here for as long as I can remember can suddenly vanish from the surface of this planet.

With the idea of death following me around, sometimes all problems become so frivolous and life too feels ever so insignificant. So what if I solve all my problems? I’ll never get out alive anyway. Maybe it is this harsh reality that instills in me a strong sense of belonging to life itself, makes me embrace living to the fullest and hold on to life like it is the last straw on earth. Because one day I’ll see my last sunrise.

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