Sunday, March 21st 2021

8:32 P.M.

Dear cheerio,

I used to have a perfect life—at least in my eyes. I was born in a loving family with annoying but sweet siblings. My mom was the humblest and most patient person I’ve ever known. She always taught me to be a good person no matter how bad the others had done to you. Because in the end, it was going to hurt you more than them.

My dad, on the other hand, never said words beyond 2 sentences. He was never the type to show affection bluntly. That time I told mom I craved jackfruit, boom! Daddy got you a whole hugeass jackfruit the next day without saying anything.

We had money. We lived comfortably. My siblings and I used to buy consoles whenever they first came out. We wanted something? We got it.

My teachers in school were caring too. My classmates and I were solid. We went field trip, camping, paintball games, and others together as a unity. I used to sleep early so I could go to school the next day. That was how I excited I was about everything in my life.

I never thought that far when I was a child. How lucky I was to be able to enjoy things like that. I took it for granted. Thinking it was normal, basic, that every child had access to.

Everything started to shatter apart when I entered high school. My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer stage 4. I was bullied by this bitch who was mad only because I wouldn’t answer a personal question. My family were struggling financially because we spent billions for my dad’s chemotherapy in China.

After sessions of chemotherapy and controlling the tumor cells, my dad had finally gone stable. He exceeded my aunt’s prediction. And when our family could breathe once a while, a storm revisited.

Now, my dad is super weak. He got liters of liquid inside his body—which we had it removed but still didn’t solve the problem. The local hospital seemed incompetent to diagnose the situation. They had no concrete diagnosis to support the conditions. In addition, because of the pandemic we couldn’t go overseas without spending lots of millions and inconveniences.

I didn’t dare to face my dad because I knew, I would cry. I stayed out—probably looking like idgaf about my dad’s condition to other people. I know, the last thing to add in this situation is negativity which I would add if I weep. Everyone has to be strong and optimistic, and I plan to stay that way—at least in front of my family.

With love,

C