Dear Sandra,

I'll be heading down to India in a small budget airplane with the family to spend an unconventional CNY in less than 24 hours.
And dad claims that I'll probably be able to find my long-lost ancestor among the Indians. yeah, right. whatever. lols.
And I won't get Internet access in middle of India on the day of the 1st month. So, I just wanted to mark this post in my virtual journal of sorts for you, babe.

It hasn't been that long, right? Coz I still can see your face, your features as clear as day in my mind. I wonder whether it will fade over time, whether it will become a chunk of skin-cloured blob by the time I turn 30. I sure hope not. I know moving on doesn't mean letting go, right? Moving on just means to me, getting on with life with less consuming sadness, more acceptance but not forgetting completely.
I think I've done all the things that is supposed to help you move on.
I've talked to friends and family.
I've remembered all the times we had and put them in more concrete form.
I've read all the lovely messages that your loved ones have left you.
I've read your blog.
I've taken time off to properly grieve for you.
I've said good bye in my own way, even though I couldn't go to your funeral.
I've talked to you in my mind.
And I'll go say goodbye to you properly at your grave, in a few months time.
And I'll learn to say the D word eventually.

I can never say this enough.
I wished you were still here. And I miss you.