This post is going to be all about me this morning, bear with me, or don’t read it.
I was out with a few friends for drinks (and food that was supposed to satisfy the needs of someone who’s half hungry, half full. ;)) First time I had talked about how I’m trying to cope while seeing people’s facial expressions and reactions. I have this fear of making people feel uncomfortable when I talk about my dad.
I am not one to be touchy-feely, and I assume others would be the same.
I was taught to be someone strong, someone who didn’t need hugs, who didn’t need to be told that they loved her.. just know that she is loved.
Now, I crave for the hugs, the I love yous, the I miss yous, because I grew up not getting any of them. Whenever I come to a hurdle in life, I go to my parents, they teach me that life is just that way. They don’t comfort me when I cry, they just tell me — of course in a soothing tone, “Sudah tah..” If I didn’t stop, my mom usually gets really mad at me, and I would force myself to stop.
Not that I have anything against how I was brought up; I cope well with situations this way.
But I didn’t realize that I had grown up to be someone who’s comfortable in talking about my feelings to a faceless audience. I didn’t realize that growing up like this would make me run away from the world and hide in my room.
Two nights ago, I talked to the boyfriend into the wee hours of the morning, and he mentioned my dad. I refer to him as bapa, so does he. I do not know why, but when he mentioned the word bapa, I broke down. I stopped having break downs in front of people on the third day after my dad passed away. It was.. weird. At that moment, I thought why did I ever think I could cope with this?
Then today, a friend, who had gone through a loss previously, told me, and I quote, “You will never get over it. You just have to get used to it.” I can’t agree with her more.