Monday, November 16, 2009 >>9:40 PM

A beautifully written book. One of the best i've read so far. The fact that the father in the book passed because of stomach cancer reminded me alot about Chandni. In the book, it was described he suffered a tremendous amount of pain, and he would wince, always having whimpering cries. I could only imagine what Chandni had gone through.

It all seems very unbelievable to me. It's as if i'm in this sort or reality game, and suddenly everyone would scream and say "Gotcha!" and Chandni would appear and i would cry of happiness she was still alive; that it has all been a joke.

But, i know that wouldn't happen but i still want to hold on to the possibilities that it might happen. I've always thought my life as a tv program, why not just extend the belief in that possibility? It means no harm to me.

I nearly cried from reading that book. The emotions mixed from the sadness of the story, infused with the ones of Chandni. That just made me control the tears from coming out, as i promised myself to not shed a tear on the matter anymore.

I read Alex's english essay on Chandni. Somehow, i feel guilty for not being there for her as much as i could, or to share the pain with her. She was a strong person and i'm glad she lasted long enough for me to say my goodbyes. This will probably the very last post about her, because i don't want to dwell on the matter anymore. As long as i treasure all the memories she has given me, i'm satisfied enough.

Thank you, Chandni. I love you, no doubt about it.

Labels: chandni, nicholas sparks, the last song