Goodbye.

I never envy those who are rich, beautiful, or famous. I just envy those who are surrounded by people who love them. Not me who can only feel bitterness, betrayal or solitude. I'm tired of having to pretend to be happy. Or pretend I'm okay.

Never have I felt the affection of those around me, even the friends whom I believe betrayed me, used my riches that I did not even want, slandered me, or dropped my pride by opening my shame in school magazine.

I never wanted the money my dad always sent me, all I wanted was a dad who stroked my hair and said "my son I love you very much", hugging me when I'm scared. Or comfort me if I'm sad.

You know the fate of God, they say the fate of God is very beautiful. I believe that, maybe God wants me to be more patient for me to be happy. Or to be free from this gloomy life.

I saw my beautiful longest childhood photo on the study bench in the corner of my room. happy family, I thought. Father carried me affectionately and the mother holding father's hand tightly. I could see their happy faces. But that happiness just vanished. Mother left us, narrated the father who began to dislike me, no matter who I am. for her money is my happiness, without knowing I missed father's hug the last time I felt when the photo was taken. Or after the mother was run over while out of the photo studio. Although he never said, but his eyes seemed to tell me the cause of maternal death. His gaze seemed to say if I did not force a picture then the incident would not happen. Dad may be too naive to admit it's the path of destiny.

For once again, I give thanks to God. I am happy. This is my freedom. We are happy others suffer. Of course you know the answer.

I looked at my brother's body lying on the hospital bed. I can see my father crying to me, I thought, it's too late father, I'm home. No one knows any other than god, Doctor Angga, angels and demons in my room that I have a brain tumor. I did not tell my dad, because I knew my father would not care.

Doctor Anga gives me a blue paper that I believe contains my outpouring of heart for my father. Dad opened the paper as Doctor Angga came out of the morgue. I know he read it silently.

My father loves you so much.

Maybe when my father reads this I've fallen on the ground. Or, if lucky dad I still lie on the hospital bed. I'm sorry dad if I did not tell you about my brain tumor. It's just that father does not care about my life. Even once when I was lying in the hospital because Daddy Dad did not visit me, so why should I tell my father. I even told Aga doctor to always go to my grave when I was dead. I'm not sure I can go to my grave with my father's hectic density. Dad, I really want you to stroke my hair while saying if you love me, I really want you to hug me, love me with your love is not your money. May be happy father. Goodbye. If God agrees we will meet in heaven later.
Your Icha

I could see the dripping tears of my father form a small circle on the shabby paper that my father read. For a moment father dabbed at his dark hair despite his age. Then he hugged my pale body, kissed my forehead. Cried and said he was very sorry for his actions. For the first time I saw father crying. And I can not erase the increasingly heavy drops of tears.

"Get up dear chacha, dad really love you. My son I love you very much "

Dad shook me frantically. I smiled for a moment at my father even though I knew my father did not see him, I also smiled for the father who called my childhood name. Then I walked to the edge of the glowing room. I said "goodbye dad not see you again as I say when I want to go, or when you want to go" now I believe in the fate of God. God freed me from my gloomy life.