The 'good' in a 'goodbye'

I wake up this morning as usual. There is nothing I worry about until I stand in front of my bathroom mirror. A glimpse of memory who I was yesterday, a month ago, even years ago enter my mind. Everything that has been passed for years suddenly appears. My eyes teary, I feel something inside my chest. It is like a burden. It is like a hole.

After all these years, I think I am just okay. Yet, I miss who I was. I miss myself.

The crying stops. The questions don't. Who I was? Do I lose something? Do I love myself enough? Do I? That echoes. I need to do something.

Still, I stand up in front of my mirror. Seeing my reflection. Seeing something different. Seeing something that I lost. My hair is getting longer. My chin is getting thinner. I lost my weight. The most important, I lost my happiness, together with his corpse. Swallowed by land, hang loosely by wind. My hero, my everything.

Yes, you already know where this passage is going on. A man. A lover. A teacher. A person whose shoulders are my highest seat. A person whose back is my strongest shield. A person whose arms are the warmest arms in the world. A person whose smile is the healing smile.

He always tell me, to put others' first. To always help. To be selfless. To be warm. To be anything that people need. I did it, dude. I did it.

....but why did he go? Why did he leave me?

He teached me everything. Everything.

....except what will I do without him.

My eyes are blurry. I am here, but my mind is not. He teached me for being selfless. And I did it. I wonted with it. I run everytime people call my name. I run everytime I hear someone's screaming for help. I run everytime I see people crying. People call me an angel. Really, huh?

The reality is...I am not. I did it because I miss you. That was you. You were the angel.

Suddenly something interrupted my thought. My reflection on the mirror. I saw me, but it is not me. It is physically me, but mentally not. I miss him. And i need him, that bad. Seems like I cannot live, without him. Doing what he likes, what he teaches me, what he want me to do, are only torture me, really....really bad.

I love him. More than anything. More than I love me. More than I love something else until I was surprised that I could have such a great love.

....and it tortures me.

I looked myself in the mirror, again. Then I saw a scissor. And my shoulder length hair. Something that he liked from me. Something that he told me to keep it long, because he likes it. And I cut it. I cut my crown. I cut his favorite part of me. I cut the path. I cut the path so I won't go back here and crying because of a memory. Of him. Because his death, is my greatest pain. And the way I cut my hair, is the same thing with the way I cut him, is the way I end this misery. Misery of being selfless. Misery of having a great love, for you. Until I cannot see anything else but you.

I love you.

....but I should love me. I should go ahead. I should appreciate me. Myself.

I should let you go. Peacefully.