A Grief Foretold Come to Fore
Mom called, "by this time, Tolstoy must be dead."
I felt numb. I couldn't hear her lament on the other end of the phone. I was trying to keep my best not to let my voice break. I felt very very sad. I felt disoriented. I wanted to shout. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to weep. I wanted to shrink and feel small. I wanted to crawl into mom's lap and be a child again and feel the warmth of her bosom. I wanted to be in a dark and quite and cold place.
Then Tolstoy's brave, handsome and proud image flashed before me. I cried. My tears are hot as it rolled down my cheek. My nose clogged with unwanted mucus brought by the hardness in the heart convoluted with the heaving emotions in my chest. My whole body is warm with sensation I couldn't quite fight.
I couldn't even see him before he sees his last. I couldn't even be there to hold him as he takes his last breath.
I love you, dear faithful pet and friend. Though at times we didn't know who was master or pet, but we belonged to each other. You were My Tolstoy and I was Your Master or you were my master and I was your pet.
I felt so terrible that I couldn't hug him to my chest before he is laid down to rest. My chest seems like it's ready to explode my head has this terrible headache that I felt nobody should come near me with the slightest annoyance lest the wrath of my bereavement is unleashed with fluent fury.
Goodbye, dearest Tolstoy. I love you. You will always be remembered.
Damn. I never knew grief like this.
I felt numb. I couldn't hear her lament on the other end of the phone. I was trying to keep my best not to let my voice break. I felt very very sad. I felt disoriented. I wanted to shout. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to weep. I wanted to shrink and feel small. I wanted to crawl into mom's lap and be a child again and feel the warmth of her bosom. I wanted to be in a dark and quite and cold place.
Then Tolstoy's brave, handsome and proud image flashed before me. I cried. My tears are hot as it rolled down my cheek. My nose clogged with unwanted mucus brought by the hardness in the heart convoluted with the heaving emotions in my chest. My whole body is warm with sensation I couldn't quite fight.
I couldn't even see him before he sees his last. I couldn't even be there to hold him as he takes his last breath.
I love you, dear faithful pet and friend. Though at times we didn't know who was master or pet, but we belonged to each other. You were My Tolstoy and I was Your Master or you were my master and I was your pet.
I felt so terrible that I couldn't hug him to my chest before he is laid down to rest. My chest seems like it's ready to explode my head has this terrible headache that I felt nobody should come near me with the slightest annoyance lest the wrath of my bereavement is unleashed with fluent fury.
Goodbye, dearest Tolstoy. I love you. You will always be remembered.
Damn. I never knew grief like this.