I think there is a big lump in my throat that clogs my breathing. I think there is a part of me that was shattered and it's hard to compose myself again.
The greatest pain that I can ever have is to lose anyone among my family's member.
Last night or that was early this morning, I dreamt that my father was gunshot by a burglar. It seemed true that I cried from my dream until when I woke up this morning. The feeling is really hard to explain. I think there is a big lump in my throat that clogs my breathing. I think there is a part of me that was shattered and it's hard to compose myself again. I'm not a sweet child in the family. I never said 'I love you' to my father. But that doesn't mean that I really don't love him. I care for him, and I'm certain for that.
This is my second time to dream that he died. But the result is the same. I never was a cry baby though I'm the youngest in the family. If there is a term more than a cry baby, certainly that's me if my dream gone real.
The venom of my dream is still fresh; it haunts me. But I feel better now because I have written this.
(I dreamt 'maybe' around 6:30-7:00. My phone's time is 7:26 when I woke up. 30 minutes earlier than the usual time in Manila. Now it's hard for me to get back to sleep)
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