I drove O< My first epic driving adventure was to go to Central at Clarke Quay. Jasmine helped me checked the maps, and it was her virgin map reading experience LOL. We took 2 detours after exiting the expressway because we were on the wrong lane to turn, but whatever, we did it \o/ And parking at the multi-storey carpark was uneventful save for the screaming we did when we had to continuously go up 5 levels of circling.

And to make it even more dangerous, we drove to Admiralty during peak hour. And then back to Khatib. We got lost so many times LOL.

But I can conclude that I don’t want the car. Driving it alone is so.. gloomy.

I’ve talked to my mother about it, and we decided to sell the car for good. Her only priority is that it’s smaller, so I’m left to do the whole choosing car part. And sob, I don’t know how to go about it. I don’t even know what to look out for. Mum mentioned picanto, but that’s cus it’s the only car she knows of. I’ll be needing a lot of help with this.

Today will be the 7th day. We’re gonna huddle up and sleep together LOL.

I’m handling things a lot better than I expected, but at the same time, I’m still very surprised at how I can easily cry over the smallest thought of him. I can be very happy when I want to be because after the cremation, it felt like there was a bigger sense of closure =D Tbh, talking about him is very easy. It’s all facts. This was what happened to him, then this happened, then that, then this, so on and so forth. I think the hardest part to convey is our sadness.

At best, I can tell you vaguely what pains us the most, and the rest is really up to you to picture it. Here is where I cry because there’s just no end to it. And I really should make my mum and I stop thinking about this. No matter how many times I tell myself I must live up to my dad’s expectations and make sure both mum and I can manage on, I really wished that if only he had that one chance to say his last words to us, and then maybe we would have felt a lot better. He must be pained to know he can’t voice his last words to us. And when he made that painful decision to leave, what were the things he have heard that made him choose to go. Have I said anything that contributed to his decision? And what really went through his head throughout all this time? My dad is not the crying sort of person. He’s really the sort that wants to live. I’m sure of it. He cried on the day of his collapse. He knew something was wrong. When he had the chance to survive in ICU, he cried so many times. He’s so unprepared to die. We haven’t done a lot of things with him yet.

All the neighbours who were present during the day of his collapse couldn’t stop apologising to us. Every second they delayed is like another huge weight on them. The ones who discovered him felt so sorry they didn’t discover him sooner. The ones who called for ambulance were so sorry they didn’t call sooner. Everyone who thought he was drunk was so apologetic that they didn’t realise it was something serious sooner. It’s like some really tragic fate for dad. It’s like everything was against him that night. Even the drivers and neighbours who ignored his hazard lights felt terrible (he turned it on. He actually turned it on. My tian why didn’t he horn.)

I can’t afford to have my mum getting ill now. She’s a very strong woman, but she’s getting affected by the things and unfinished tasks that my dad left behind. The whole house is just making her feel v. gloomy, so dear bank, please do us a favour and unfreeze the house asap, and let us find a new home.

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