9 days to the end. It was eight in the morning, my father was at the entrance, getting ready to leave for his workplace. I got up from the couch and walked to my father. “See you dad.” I gave him a hug before he left the house.
Staring at my father through the window, I began wondering if I died the next moment, had I said a proper goodbye to my father? It gave me the shivers realizing that saying “see you” to someone would not necessarily promise me a second chance of meeting that person.
I questioned myself if I stopped breathing the next second, had I done enough to express my feelings for the ones I loved, had I shown them enough love through my embrace? Would they understand if I did not put my feelings in words?
Some words were meant to be told when we had the chance to do so; some warmth was meant to be shared before it was too late…