How cute is she after her trip to the groomer's?!

The blessings God grants us every day. Nothing short of content.

Night 2.

I miss my dad again tonight. Too tired for words. Will write another day.

I trust in You, Lord. I have been loved.

My last journey at #11-102. It's been a crazy ride but for all it's worth and no matter how bittersweet feelings may turn, God is with all of us (whether we're a literal believer or not). God is with my dad and my mum and us, and He has surely lifted what He felt wasn't necessary of a pain.

The wonderful memories sneaking back into my mind, they sometimes hold me back. But through this all, I know God has been with me come what may, and He has embraced my hurt and negative nostalgia.

I'm no longer at my old place. But my heart for a home will always be rooted in #11-102.

I love you Dad. I'm thankful you're still somewhat around so we have time to love each other still. I would really like to tell you personally, that I forgive you, because no other person love you more than your daughters. The past is behind me, although it still pains me to not be with you nearly as seldom as it used to be. I'll always be here. June will always be here. You will always be remembered endearingly to us and you will always have our love. Please don't ever become a stranger because I will try and try to be the best daughter I was made to be. I want and need to be in your life, so please don't ever exit. Lastly, and again, I love you Daddy. You've given me so much in my childhood and in my life to be thankful and happy about. You're one of God's greatest blessings to me. Don't ever give us up. I made meant and made to be your daughter and vice versa, you as my father. Thank you for life. Thank you for the joy. Thank you for everything you've ever done for me and with me. Thank you for being my daddy.

It was never the literal distance that kept us apart from one another. Perhaps all along, it was just the unsorted differences. It's nice to feel close(r) these days.

We'll keep it going, we'll be strong together, come what may.

3 more days.

Never in decades would I ever realize that I had taken such simple things for granted - peering down at Godma's, stealing peeks of void deck weddings from up here, holding little prayers in solitude as I gaze upon the darkened blankets of skies and feeling overwhelmed with contentment, taking dibs on calling out anyone who's returning home at the corridor, having my first phone calls with Ben as I hung my legs high up on the grill, the times I cried myself senselessly and took rest on my trusty couch for intimate time with God, carrying my pooch at the level of these windows whenever it rained (she loves watching the rain). So much of these memories happened here first. Bunking in with my mum the past 7 years, this was where my space of zen was.

I'll miss this forever.

Happy birthday, my dearest. Thank you for being the pride and joy of my life.

Today was beautiful, because you were in it. I am happy today because I made you happy today. For those few mere hours, I forgot to remember any ordeal at hand, because that's how happy you make me. This is why we've made it through 2.5 years strong.

It hurts so mightily tonight, it feels like my heart is being gorged out. Sleep will rob away the remains of time, to reminisce and grief and breathe my kind of content. And for that, sleep is my greatest enemy, one that does not fear me the way I do it. Every drift into the unconscious wastes more time that could be functioned for telepathic thoughts. Thinking and thoughts, on the other hand, have been my most loyal company. Nostalgia is fueling my recent obsesion for scraps of memories lurking in every inch of this house that now begins to haunt me. I believe this is the first time that I'm existing to regret, about something only time can tell. Above all, this wretched feeling hovers over me like possession. The feint lines between immense love and reluctance blend in together as I clench my unspoken prayers.

A miracle could save me. God, won't you save me?

I'm feeling the desperation to hold and cling onto whatever memory and opportunity to create memories of the time I'm counting down to giving up this beautiful (albeit dysfunctional) home. I've known broken and functional simultaneously all my years growing up here, so deeply that I'm truly afraid of moving on to a healthy and genuinely functional life ahead. This desperation is causing me sorrow, the sorrow irreplaceable with any other home I'll ever have. I revisit every corner of this home as much as I possibly can. I keep reassuring others of the better days ahead and yet I'm semi-uncertain/semi-certain if it stands as true as spoken of. The place doesn't make the love, but it's the love which makes the place. If so, why do so many fall into the grave blunder of not letting go of places.

Twenty six years and I have never felt my dad ever relenting to sorrow until this day. Standing in front of him sends me waves of a sadness never describable - the sadness God gets, the pain and loss of probable goodbye. His ability to experience sadness with regards to being permanently physically distant from us has, for the strangest of unknowing reasons, shown me his depths of sentimentalism toward us. The fear exuding inside-out of him was fragile and vulnerable; something I believed to never live long enough to witness. This fear I saw, it was precious and endearing.

Amidst this (I dare say) very painful and difficult ongoing phase, it has been comforting to know that this is not about to lead to another dark episode. Having Ben's love and support has provided me solace and strength. In strangest ways, I see and feel God and His Godliness in my sweetest soul mate. Never has either God or Ben given up on me and released me to any form of empty abyss, in which I'm largely grateful for. I know Ben tries, and God knows he does too.

Ben, for the times you feel you weren't able to comfort me right, you were wrong. Your love has been the greatest source of motivation and love these 2.5 years. I'm stubborn, although not apparently, but my stubbornness is deep-rooted and sometimes I appear to take you for granted. Nevertheless, thank you for always being here for me - for being happy when I am and for being sad when I am too. I never have to feel the familiar utter loneliness again, now that I have you from now forth. Thank you, for the endless sessions of having to console or reprimand me. More than often, I never thanked you enough. So I send my perpetual thankfulness in writing, so that you will always be able to read and remind yourself of the great things you have brought about in my days, and most importantly, of how happy you make me no matter how sad I may be. I love you always.