Busu

To my aunty: Busu, I miss calling you that. We used to have so much fun together. I thought you'd be there to see me achieve my dreams. I thought you'd be there to see me get married even. I can't say I'm sorry, for sorry is not enough. Two years you wanted to see me and I ignored it. When we finally met, I turned out to be this terrible being that cared for nothing except myself. I love you, but I broke your heart into a million pieces with the shits I did. We only got to see each other a couple times before you ended up in the hospital. When I saw you there, I wanted so much to touch you. To hug you, to kiss you and to comb through your hair with my fingers. But I couldn't bring myself to. I should never be forgiven for the shits that I did. Still you appeared in my dream and hugged me. Why? Why did you do that? Now I'm alone on the stage I built for us, and I can't stop thinking of you. I miss smelling your hands. I miss telling you how horrible you sounded - even though you sounded good - whenever you sung the songs that now bring tears to my eyes. I miss telling you how horrible your cooking is even though I loved it. But what I miss most is you coming to find me when I ran away from everyone because I felt that I wasn't being treated fairly or listened to. I took it for granted then, but now I see that you did that because you cared. My most memorable moment with you as a kid is taking a shower with you after we played in the rain. It may sound weird and inappropriate, but I assure you it's not. I miss you busu. I'm trying my best to be good so I can see you again when I leave this place. I just wish I'd not taken you for granted. I just wish I'd shown you just how much I love you. I ain't doing the same thing with the people I love now. Especially you, if you're reading this. You know who you are.