Today I'm feeling surprisingly happy!

When I took this photo; surrounded by shopping bags and boxes, holding someone else's wishtlist in my hand, I didn't think it would feel like... this.

It all started in Malaysia, almost by accident. Friends and acquaintances messaged me:

And I thought: Why not? It's just a favor, right? A little side hustle.

What I didn't expect was how much I'd actually enjoy it. There’s something oddly sweet about walking through a store with someone else’s wishlist in your hand. Picking up boxes of cookies or makeup or bags, imagining how excited they’ll be when it finally reaches them. Shopping — not for myself, but for them — turned out to be more fun than I thought. The funniest part? I forgot to buy anything for myself.

Somewhere between their lists and my own tired feet, my shopping plans just slipped out of my head. When I finally sat down at the hotel room, surrounded by all those bags, I realized not a single thing in there was mine — and yet, it made me happy anyway.

Sometimes happiness is quiet like that.

Sometimes it’s just being useful.

Sometimes it’s being a small part of someone else’s story.

So now, whenever someone sends me another list — “can you find this? can you get that?” — I don’t roll my eyes anymore. 

Instead, I smile and think:

Well, let’s fill another cart with happy.

She loved him deeply. The kind of love that seeped quietly into her bones, that made her believe, for a while, that she'd finally found where she belonged.

But love is strange. Sometimes it feels like the whole world, and yet it still can't hold everything you are. They don't talk much about this kind of heartbreak — the kind where you still love each other, but the road forks anyway. Where you're left holding the pieces of a dream you still believe in, even as you're walking away from it.

Hearing the song did not just let me remember things. It also made me realize how much I miss my mother. It has been 3 weeks since she left me, but I still have so many questions that I know I will never find the answers to. Some people probably have it figured out, but I still have not. Maybe because sometimes, it is easier to just throw stupid questions out in the air than face the answers right in front of us. 

How much of your character is taken away from you when your mother dies?

I am pretty sure that I am never going to be the same person as I was when my mother was still alive. I am not certain if it is a good thing or a bad thing. Honestly, I do not care. But I want to know how much of my whole thing did she take with her and how much is left with me now. I read once that us — the children — were inside our mother's tummies only for nine months, but their hearts forever. I think it is true because I felt it. But if she kept me in heart for so long, what happened when she died? When she left this lonely cruel world, did she take a part of me that she loved the most? And if yes, does that make her happy up there? Does being allowed to take something from the earth — from the people she loved — make dying worth it?

I also ask sometimes, how exactly can you move on and live a life with that gaping hole in your chest?

They say you cannot really get over a loss of a loved one — that you just get used to it. But do you, really? Do you really just get the hang of not ever talking to the person who witnessed how you achieved your greatest successes and made the most unforgivable mistakes but loved you all the same? Then why do I feel so terrible when something great happens, and I just realize that I can no longer call my mother to tell her about it? I can tell other people, yes. But no one can replace my mother. Her words of encouragement and pure adoration. The assurance that she is proud of me no matter what. The hugs and kisses translating that everything is going to be okay — that it only gets better. Even if it really does not.

How is it possible to finally accept that you are going to spend the rest of your life without her?

Growing up, my mother was no nonsense, and all about raising me to be exceptional woman. I was always expected to be above standard, even with whatever chaos that surrounded me at any given time. It was no secret that she loved me more than anything in this world and as I got older, my mother suddenly shifted to be a friend; someone I could call and she was always there. The loyalty was unmatched. She was my best friend.

A parent's death is never easy. But this one, was definitely hard to swallow. It doesn't get easier to process.

You won't feel like you can relate to anyone anymore. This may come across as a bit selfish, but after an unexpected death — especially both of your parents — you become a shell of yourself. And you start to subconsciously not want to deal with anyone. Unless they've been through it. No one understands how you feel, so you sort of file everyone in a category as just someone being kind during your current hardship. And in a weird, completely unselfish way, you do not want them to. You even start to think of ways that you can get "Thank you, I really appreciate it," stamped for automatic reply.

But the fact is, everyone feels sad for you and they all want to support you. But because the situation isn't exclusive to them as it is to you, you find yourself uncomfortable with the comfort and feeling alone. I remember chatting with Neeraj and telling him:

"The hardest part of this whole ordeal, is that you've been ripped apart, and you can't breathe, and your whole world is falling apart. And to everyone around you, it's just another day."

Particularly, I remember receiving group chat messages of the usual memes or videos we'd often share and looking on social media and seeing my entire feed being completely normal. And it's hard. Because to you, nothing is normal anymore.

On the day my mom died, the community came out of the woodwork. And I mean that in the most literal form. We had people come from all over the country, some asking how they can contribute to anything, food was coming from every corner of the city, and flowers and cards and messages and calls. You never know how much you are loved and valued until this moment. I even had friends I hadn't seen since high school to come to my mother's funeral service. All the love is incredible and it got me through for sure. I had friends and family who were there for me and checked on me everyday, no matter how much I didn't want to talk. But I also had friends and family that I would have been that supportive person for, that I never heard from — some even to this day. My mother had 11 brothers and sisters, 7 of them passed away, and the whole 4 came to her funeral. But no matter what, family drama will come to the surface that people cling to. Jobs will wonder when you're coming back because you just have to get those emails out. And companies will apologize for the death, but still want their money no matter what kind of situation you've just got into. Some people who claim to be your best friends might not be there to hug you in person because they're busy with their lives, some of them might also busy complaining and comparing your sadness to theirs — that will make you look very very selfish if you get upset. They'll text me sending long messages saying "You are not alone," or "I will hug you soon," at the end of paragraph but fuck it. Who cares? The fact is you are sitting on your bed, alone, and not a single soul is there with you because it is your life anyway. It is not theirs. And you'll be very grateful because you have someone who truly understands you, who's really putting your comfort above anything. By all means, you still want hugs, but his presence even if it's only through video calls every night until you fall asleep; it means so much to you.

Friends will become question marks, family will become strangers, and situations become accentuated. But in a time where you need all the support, you have to not let that disrupt your energy. You are not obligated to comfort anyone, no matter how strong you are. And you do not have to take on anything that doesn't help you heal. All you can do is focus on the people who supported you and loved you. Let any disappointment be background noise.

Yet, the support you receive will be a direct reflection of you and your parents.

"Hold me close, hug me tight. In the moment when I'm not there, I am there."

The door is always open.

Every day I expect you to walk out that door and never come back. Each morning I wake up in bed next to you, wondering if, by nightmare, I'll have to sleep alone without the comfort of your embrace. I listen to the words "I miss you," holding on to them if ever each time will be the last. I want to capture every detail of your face. I want them ingrained in my memory because someday, those will be all I have. I place my hand on the lines of your jaw, and lay a kiss on your lips, laced with a goodbye just in case.

I know we aren't forever and I've accepted that as a fact. I am easily replaceable by somebody better who deserves you more. You're too good and I'm just bad for you. You will get that perfect life and a future where all your dreams come true, even if I won't be in the picture. I'm alright. This isn't paranoia, but being at peace with inevitability. You don't need to worry at all because I'm nothing but grateful for you. You were the best thing that happened to me. A piece of you will always remain within me, and I hope I'll be ready when it's time to let you go.

For now, I'm making the most of these moments we have together. While I can put that smile on your face, I'll take every chance I can. You still look at me like I'm your most favorite person, and I will always wonder how I could have been so lucky to get a chance to see you. You were on the way toward a whole life ahead you, but somehow, you came and joined me on this little detour. You've still got a bit of time to live the rest of your life, so for now, come dance with me and relish in the temporary. Let's see as much as we can until you don't want to see me anymore. Let's be happy together until you're happier apart.

July 21, 2023.

It was a hectic Wednesday in October last year. We started to pack up our things, finishing online check-ins as we're going to fly to our own destinations at the same night. I was standing in front of the mirror in his bathroom with door opened, blowout my hair like usual. He paced back and forth in the room, tried to decide which shorts to carry while playing his favorite album of Sufjan Stevens. And suddenly he played this tune— Cold/mess. At that very moment I had no idea who Prateek Kuhad was, that was the first time I heard it.  "Do you like this song?" he asked me. I turned my face, looked at him and gave him a smile. The song kept playing, and I sat down on the edge of his bed, he followed me and sat in front of me— facing me. I was smiling bitterly while holding up the tears falling down from my eyes. It's going to be the last day I met him before spending months guessing and guessing when to meet next. And then suddenly, he looked into my eyes quite deeply, sang to me clearly, "I wish I could leave you my love but my heart is a mess," while my heart and brain couldn't stop screaming saying I love him. Until we're ready to leave. Until I hugged him at departure crying, whispering the words "I love you."

May 16, 2023.

The weight of feelings I have for missing you can never tantamount to anything in this world. I ache every night that I won't be able to physically be with you. I am longing to find you next to my bed whenever I wake up at 3:14 AM. All I want is the touch of your skin to mine.

I miss you.

Your touch, your smell, your body beside mine. I lie awake at night counting the days I have to be with you again. There won't be enough "I miss you"s to make you feel how much I'm really longing to be with you. All I want are nights with you— to be right beside you sleeping, to cuddle and to talk about this and that. All I want is waking up every morning knowing you're there to kiss me good morning.

I miss holding your hand while we're sitting on the backseat of a cab, or while walking down the streets even if it feels strange because I'm not used to hold hands in public. I miss hugging you in between your tight working schedules. I miss laughing with you.  I miss you, it hurts. There's nothing I wanted right now than to be with you physically— to be able to cup your face and wrap you in my arms. I don't know how to put it in words of how my heart is breaking because we are apart. Of all the things that's been coming out of my mouth at this moment, I could really just utter the words "I miss you" because that is what I'm feeling right now.

I miss you.

The world feels more than a little bit unstable right now, and honestly I'm not okay. I know that even when you're not physically with me, we're still connected because you tell me so all the time. But, damn, I definitely miss the comfort that comes with your embrace.

Whenever we're apart, I walk around with this feeling I can't seem to shake. It's like an emptiness inside my chest that I can never really seem to fill. Anytime you wrap your arms around me, though, I suddenly feel full. It doesn't matter where we connect, be it an embrace out on the sidewalk or some cuddles while we watch TV, it all means the world to me.

I've hugged a lot of people throughout my life, but none of them held me quite the way you do. It's like your arms were always meant for me; I just had to find you. Your arms are like my solace, a sanctuary from the demons in my mind. I don't know how you do it, but a simple hug from you makes the madness melt away and calms the storm that constantly brews inside. I'm not sure you even realize how magical your hugs are (although I'm fairly certain you know how much I love them). But honestly? It's time you knew. So this is for when I get to hug you again, whether that's tomorrow, next month or next year:

Thank you for comforting me, protecting me, and keeping me safe and warm. Your arms are my refuge and my home. I can't think of a better place to rest than wrapped in your embrace. I know my arms may not always seem as warm and welcoming as yours, but I'll try my best to keep you safe when they're around you. I can be your shelter too.

The world feels more than a little bit unstable right now, and honestly, I'm barely hanging on. But thinking about all the hugs of ours is keeping me alive.

March 31, 2023.

Sometimes the alarm goes off and I press snooze like it actually says stop. Like it says TRY AGAIN ANOTHER DAY. Like the apocalypse is seconds away, so who really needs to get up and shower, you know? It's weird to be considered happy by everyone I know, when waking up feels a bit like failure. I am always looking for the right words— like, "Emotions are separate from depression." Like I am goofy and loud and laughing, but that doesn't negate the emptiness. Like a jack-o'-lantern is still hollow even it's smiling.

I know there is no right way to be alive, I know there is sometimes just this: Survival. And dirt. And crawling our way out of the thick of it. I know there is only this, my heart, and it's beating and how goddamn beautiful that really is. And then the confusion of not seeing beauty. Of not getting it. Of seeing art in a museum and wondering why everyone is in awe. 

You ever look at the ocean and not understand what you're supposed to be excited about? You ever wake up and press your finger and your chest and not understand how you are so alive but nothing feels like it?

Sometimes the alarm goes off, and I press snooze. But I still get up. That's something, right?

February 27, 2023.

The first time we met, I felt nervous in a way I hadn't before.

You didn't seem nervous then, which made me feel it even more.

At first just another stranger, but perhaps that's the understatement of the year.

I had known you all of the 5 minutes but the consensus had been clear.

It would be an insult to call you a stranger, when you felt like something I knew so well.

Like remembering something from your childhood, that becomes your favourite story to tell.

Like asking a question that you already know the answer to, but I used to always fear that it would change.

Like putting all your skeptical puzzle pieces down, and trusting something bigger than you to arrange.

February 9, 2023.