The number 17 is a number I wish never existed.
Each time the 17th of a month appears, I remember clearly the day all of you left. The subsequent events that followed. The large gap that all of you left. Occasionally, I play the videos that you sent during your last holiday. The tears still fall listening to your voices. I played the video of Ti dancing in one my random collections.
I wonder if you are looking down on us.
Do you make sure we make the correct decisions?
Do you accompany us when we are in pain?
I want it so badly that all of you are here again.
The family is incomplete without you all.
Nothing has been the same.
Nothing will ever be the same.
