It's been 11 years. Every year when this day approaches, I think I'm going to sail through smoothly. I assure myself that I have mourned enough and I'm past the pain that the thoughts would bring in. I keep telling myself that there is no way that this one day would affect me so much since I think about you every single day.
But the truth is different. Every year when finally the clock strikes 12 at midnight, it seems that I travel back to that day when you moved on to a different world. I've come to realise that no matter how many years go by, no matter with how much of ease I can speak about that fateful night, I will never stop thinking about you.
How I wish, there was something that I could have done to stop you from going forever and I will keep thinking about this until it's my time to go. Another year, another night, but the truth still remains the same...
Miss you dada.... more and more with each passing year...
Rest in peace...
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