Grief. What is it? Does everyone feel it? Does everyone have the strenght to endure the pain it causes? Only certain people know what the human heart can survive. Only certain people know how much pain someone can endure before they finally break.

For me, I think I know the feeling of grief better than anyone else. That feeling when your chest clenches up and your heart hurts and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. That feeling when you feel like crying is the only option; no amount of talking to someone else will help what you’re feeling. That feeling you get when you want to cry, yet you have lost all your energy from trying to cope with the agony. That is the feeling I think I know best.

Don’t waste a minute, they said. Never miss an opportunity to invite them out to dinner or a movie, they said. Don’t hesitate in sending them a comic strip you know will make them laugh, they said. They said to do it, so that’s exactly what I did. I always sent letters and comics to him, at least twice a week. I tried to arrange dates where we could finally be together, though the amount of time between each meeting grew longer and longer as time went on. I tried to keep him happy throughout his chemotherapy treatments, but I guess it didn’t work in the end.

Grief. Guilt. Sorrow. Pain. They all linger with me and I can’t get rid of them; not since Hangeng left. I can’t get rid of them; I know his death is partially my fault. Of course the cancer was no one’s doing, after all, it’s genetic. But I could have been a better person, a better friend.

It is true that I tried to connect with him, I tried so hard. Though my efforts only got through if he wanted them to, right? If so, I guess he didn’t want me around him. I guess he didn’t want my sympathy, my love.

It is my fault Hangeng committed suicide, and I know it. No one can tell me otherwise. No one can convince me that I’m not responsible.