Writing this now, I realise that this pain will continuously be part of my life, there are just moments when Im not thinking of it, but the rest of the time it feels that I will never be complete ever again. 

One part of me died with him, the little niece that looked at him with admiration, sometimes hating his guts but even then, I loved him unconditionally.

Another part of me woke-up since that day, and is so aware that this life will end and wants to do something really meaningful with every breath I have left. Its like a countdown to death and wanting to make the best out of this life. Same time, the pain of my loss is shadowing every small happy moment. 

He really loved me, despite all the differences, despite all the mean words be both used sometimes. I hope I ll have a child someday and tell him/her stories about him..so his memory will not die with me. 

I didnt attend his funeral, I couldnt have that closure, I didnt want to see him lifeless, that powerful man lying in a coffin... That wasnt the last memory I wanted to have about him. 

People might judge me but no one really knows whats inside my heart. And I really dont care, no one is living inside my mind and holding so many grudges that sometimes are so overwhelming and hard to live with.