It's past 12am now.
I just blew my last birthday cake a couple of hours ago.
Mummy and brother sang a birthday song, but all I could feel was sadness in the air.
We're missing you, Papa.
For someone who values the tradition of celebrating our birthdays, I don't know how to feel on our birthdays anymore. You'd always make sure our birthdays are celebrated with a cake every year. So why aren't you home?
I miss you so much Papa.
Losing you has only intensified an underlying characteristic of mine - my quick temper.
Unfortunately, many parties have experienced my wrath and I know I have to change the way I am approaching everything.
I'm starting to hurt people, and I'm afraid.
It comes so naturally, and especially when I feel threatened/upset, like what I felt 1.5 years ago, standing there fighting for your life with the so-called medical professionals who were supposed to save you.
I'd have done everything in my power to save you, but I wasn't equipped with the necessary medical knowledge.
I know you wouldn't have liked how I acted out during that time, but I don't regret what I did back then when I had to save you.
Yet the anger has been carried forward - and has been spreading to personal relationships that I cherish too. This is the only part I regret, and I'm trying.
I promise I will change for the better.
For 2021.