Black is the new sexy?Or new way to grieve?

    Lately I've been mostly in black, either shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and so on. Black is the new sexy eh? Hmm NO NO. I wear it for few reasons perhaps. Allow me to enlighten you.

    First and foremost, in case you do not know, my mother passed away since 2014. Since then I've been grieving, over and over again. Grieving is a non-stop process, you just can't get rid of it, you can't amend the broken pieces on your heart even the four chambers are still on their own positions. Yet they are broken into millions or perhaps billions pieces within themselves without being able to be noticed even using X-ray. At some point, you just can't feel your heartbeats. Sometimes, you try to sit alone silently, listening attentively to the beating of heart, but it's empty there. It's like you're a dead person in a live body. So I can't help myself from continuing to grieve. I wear black or dark colors to tell the people around (maybe no one knows) that I'm living with grief. Yes, I tried to be happy, tried to put myself with other colors such as red, white, yellow and so on but they all don't suit me. Putting them on myself makes me feel like I'm disgusting, why I wear bright color to grieve over someone who's the dearest to me. I feel so disgusting that I hate myself. Unless the situation leaves me no choice, else I'm always with the black or dark colors covering me.

   Second, it's because black represents the state I'm in. So you may be curious what state I'm in? Well, relating back to my loss, I'm in grief and so it leads to depressed. Yea, you read it right I'm in depression. Since my mommy passed away, I feel depressed because the only true love in this world has left me behind all alone in this big big world. No I do not have a father, I'm from a single parent family. So in just a night, I turned to an orphan. Go on telling me 'you have aunts to take care of you', 'you have a super duper good grandma to love you', and so on. But let me tell me, the feelings or the love you get from them are fucking different from what you feel from your mother. They love me, but I just want a mother's love. I'm so depressed that everytime when others mention about their mothers, it reminds me that I'm an orphan. Mother's day is the scariest for me, whenever I hear about it, it reminds me that I lost my mother in 2014 and that's the fact that I can't do anything to change. So for me black color best represents my life. I just love it.

    Next, for me black color is a strong armor that secures me well under its shade. I feel strong and witchy in black. I feel so powerful although I'm so broken inside. Black covers me with its magnificent armor, securing me from breaking down so easily in front of human beings. So wearing black helps me to face family, friends and crowds.

   These are the main three reasons why I love wearing black so much. I thought of blogging it out because I was thrown with a statement by grandma this morning, 'you like to wear black so much,aren't you?'. Obviously it's a statement that needs no answer.

   Afterall, black is one of the ways I use to grieve.

The heartache that not everyone understands at the age of 19

   It was this heartache, that not everyone would experience it at the age of 19.

   Being a 19 year old girl (or supposed a young lady I should say), whom has been brought up by a single parent, my mommy was all the support that I'd ever had through this 19 years of life. She was the one who taught me how to walk, the one who held my hands when I marched out my very first step of life, the one who taught me how to speak, the one who taught me how to eat and drink ethically, the one who taught me to read and write, the one who paid all my school fees from kindergarten till now, the one who spent her money on my everything, the one who taught me what the moral values are, the one who taught me how to be a well-mannered young lady and so on and so forth.

   There it's gone, everything's gone. That was the night which I lost her, completely. It was on 24th Feb,2014, at 11.30pm. That night, I thought I'd die of heartaching too, at least I hoped to. Losing someone who is so important,significant to you, would you still be able to breathe? For me, no. That moment, I was dead, totally lost in the big universe, which didn't seem familiar anymore. I lost the one and only family I had in the earth. How the hell you expected me to be all good or strong. I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't feel it even when I was crying.

   During the funeral, so many people came dropping by, staying. Some came for 3 days continuously, some came when the time matched their schedules. I was again lost in the white, or the black, all I could see was everyone was in black or white. No one was in cheerful bright color. I was being brought down by the colors,again. I was lost in my own crying. I wasn't know what I was supposed to do except for crying. People came, I explained the situation, repeatedly, the heartbeats skipped everytime I tried explaining to people. One asked, explained; second came, explained; third came,explained; that cycle went on and on for 3 days continuously. They didn't get me, they didn't know me well, they didn't care about my feeling perhaps; that was why they couldn't just shut their mouths and kept asking. Those were all what I thought that time.

   They came, they consoled, they said 'be strong', they hugged you and etc., but those were not what I needed. All I needed was a quiet, peaceful moment to just sit myself down beside the coffin, to look at my mommy, to grieve over my lost. All I wanted was grieving. But then all the people came, showed you their kindness which you from the ethics perspective, shouldn't turn them down. I wanted to cry my lungs out, to cry till I fainted, till I was exhausted, but all I could do that time was being strong, explaining to everyone what had happened to mom, and greeting people who came for the prayer.

   I was numb,emotionless. I couldn't feel myself breathing, or even I could not breathe properly. There was an ache in my heart, that was so painful and awful. It was like a knife, sticking through the heart, the four chambers were parted, it was so painful that I thought I was almost to die too after my mom. Unfortunately, or should I say fortunately, I made myself alive, till now, being able to be here to explain my pain through words.

   No one's ever told me how to handle this grief. I, however did it all by my own, as I'm the only child, and I only had a family member which was my beloved mommy. That was the thought I made during mom's funeral, that I would never admit or search for my biological father who's in another state. He means nothing to me, so to my mom, as well as to my future family or the guy whom I'm going to marry to. He means nothing throughout my life, and never will he be, because he did not take the responsibility as what a father should have or a husband should have. Whoever hurts my mom will be nothing in my life, because I love my mom so much that I honestly, couldn't accept anyone who's hurt her into my life, regardless of who you are.

   The extended families did not help much too except aunt was busy settling down all the documents of mommy. Then the others seem like they do not actually care. Of course they did grieved, but not as long as me. And I do understand, because my mom is my mom, she played the other roles to other siblings or relatives. Or maybe I am the one who just can't get over the grief. Grieving alone, because I'm strong and independent enough to do so. Or maybe some of them care, but I cannot feel it. I don't know. Some are even worse, trying to play some dramas in between. I appreciate that,peeps. At least you made me see who's the real and who's the fake. I, somehow, grieve alone, and yess until now I don't really stop grieving yet. I do not care about anyone, anymore when I'm back to hometown. I just take them as people in my life, not like they're meaningless to me, but not like they mean something to me too. I get to know not everyone cares about your lost, afterall it's YOURS, not theirs. Yea, this is the world. But they do not need to grieve for your lost for long time, it's not their duty over the lost, it's not their responsibilities to care about you.

   The heartache is still there, the parting of heart chambers can still be felt, the difficulty to breathe still happens, the fear of losing meaningful people around you still hunts you, the night you cry yourself to sleep still is needed and so on. But what I could do? I'm still grieving over my lost, but I'm marching on as a strong lady too. I'm blessed enough to meet good friends, besties, BFFs, they're part of my world, they mean so much to me. Not to forget, my grams. Though I behave very bad towards her due to my bad temper, but I do love her and appreciate everything she does for me. I do appreciate all the tears that she's shed for my lost. I do care about her. And I hope she's always blessed with good health and happiness, I hope she's part of my life, involving in my graduation in 3 years time, my marriage in future and so on. I do hope she participates in my life, Afterall she's the only one I have now.

   I count my days by moments, neither by minutes nor hours. I jot down every moment that means for me, or at least memorable or the moments that should be remembered. So that when I grow older, I have some memories to rewind, or some people (even though passers-by in life) to recall. I enjoy every moment that is well spent with friends, or any people. At least I enjoy it using heart, I feel it with my heart.

It's been 298th day, mommy, I know you're on the heaven, watching over me. It's a great loss to us in the earth, but a great earn for heaven to gain an angel like you ♥ Watch me over heaven, and wish the best for me, I'll be a good one to make you proud.