Exactly a week ago, I have received one of the most heartbreaking wake-up calls from my brother. My grandmother has passed away. Immediately, I jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs, my shaking knees almost giving in as I take every step. And when I finally saw her lifeless body, I couldn't move.
Nanay is gone after a long fight.
Honestly, it took me a week for this to finally sink in. But as much as I hate the idea of death, I realize that her passing is easier to handle than the fact that somebody left me again. It hasn't been long since someone turned his back on me. And now this...
Somehow, it makes me wonder: "Wouldn't there be anyone to stick with me until the end?"
It's no longer overthinking. It's about facing the reality - the reality which has inadvertently hurt my pride and self-worth: that I am a very repulsive person. Whether because of natural causes or personal choices, people leave me behind because I am not someone to be proud of.
This brings me back to a series of self-realization about who I am and what I am. I know this sounds very depressing and overacting but how to deny the fact that I am unwanted. No one tries to stick around. No one tries to understand. No one tries to break into my world and crack my protective shell open to see what's actually inside.
No one actually cares.