Sunday, July 5, 2009

sometimes i wish i could save you.

Hmmmm.
Today is the day. Sunday the 5th.

The last time a Sunday falls on a 5th was 3 months back. 5th April '09 ; Sunday. The day I will never forget for the rest of my life. Never. Thinkin back, hell yeah, it has been 3 months since it happened. Since my dear friend left us all. He had been caught in an accident where he sort of flew out the car and his skull cracked. There was nothing anyone could do.

3 months and not a day pass by without me missing him. I remember that faithful morning. Yusri had called me using an anonymous number around 7 a.m. I was asleep and when I reached out to answer the phone, it was too late. He text messaged me. The text that changed everything. I became speechless and could not believe my eyes.

" Aslmkm. Al-Fatihah buat mber kte Syed Adib yg tlah plang ke rhmatllah akbat kmlangan jlanrya pgi td. Smha rohny dcucuri rhmat. Amin.. "

I thought he was joking. I wasn't ready! I asked him to call me back and when he did, he was speechless. He could not say a word. At that point, my tears drop silently. How could this be? I hung up without a word. I hugged my knees. Cried silently. Sobbed. I recite Al-Fatihah. I need to talk to someone so I decided to call Sadiq, my ex-boyfriend who once had an argument with late Adib. I told him then, crying, sobbing. He became speechless. No one predicted this.

I called Aswad next. Aswad made me tell him three times because he too, could not believe it. I hung up and cried with all my heart. Flashes of memories ran through my mind. How could this be? He called me a few days back. We were laughing, joking. We texted. He asked me out. :(

I went gloomy, the whole day. I spoke little and sat in the bathroom for a loooong time. I think the whole family noticed the glominess. I tried not to cry but ... *Sighs. I remember sitting in my room, reciting Al-Fatihah and read Yasin, fighting back tears. Fahmi called to check up. He told me to be strong. To let go. Hakimi also called. Eriene called later in the evening.

I told Momma all about it and she let me have my alone time. I fought tears throughout the day. I did not go to his place for I am afraid I could not be strong enough to face everything.

To make my day better, Momma decided to bring us out. She insisted. I followed eventually. Of course, there is no way I'm going to cry in public. That's just humiliating. :( I went to Borders and found One More Day by Mitch Albom. That just saddens me up.

One More Day book review :
For One More Day starts with a young sports reporter approaching former baseball player Chick Benetto. Chick's first words are, "Let me guess. You want to know why I tried to kill myself." From there the story of Chick's life is told in his voice, and the reader hears it as if he or she is the sports reporter sitting there listening to him.
When Chick tries to commit suicide, he wakes up in a world between life and death where he gets to spend one more day with his mother, who dies 8 years earlier. Chick was supposed to be with his mother the day she died, and he still harbors guilt over the fact that he wasn't.
The story moves back and forth between memories of Chick's childhood and adolescence, and the action taking place between Chick and his dead mother. Ultimately, it is a story of redemption and making peace with one's past. It is a story of love, family, mistakes and forgiveness.

*Sighs.

The next day (6th April '09, Monday) I decided to wear my dark blue Baju Kurung because we used to match our attires. I met Aswad, opting the same shade with mine. I just sat next to him and the tears streamed down again. He just let me. Nik and Adli came and as he told them the breaking news, I cried more. Ohmigosh, I thought. How will this day go on?

Fahmi texted later on, asking me if I would join him for lunch. I agreed because I haven't ate anything. We talked and chatted about late Adib. It felt weird. I wished I would not have to use past tenses when talking about him.

As I walked to the train station that evening, the tears built up again. I remembered when he used to walk me to the station. Gosh. How could this be? I bet I looked really ugly, walking alone, fighting back tears. I called Aliaa, so that I have someone to talk to. No, she's not the one. I called Aza instead. :(

I will remember you. Always. Forever. May you rest in peace.
Al-Fatihah.

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