the passing of warmth.

It's difficult. Giving something I love for someone else. It has always been a difficult thing for me to do. I found it agonizing to give up something that I've protected. It has always been that way.

When I was a kid, I've already figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I want to write. I don't know exactly what my life would be about, but I knew that it has something to do with writing. Somehow it has to be. And I knew that, because I woke up every morning, and in those first few seconds, I would try to remember my dreams and I wrote them on a piece of paper. And on days I couldn't remember, I made them up.

And because of my love for words, I began to love reading. I was addicted to them. I build a sanctuary out of them. Living the lives of those fictional characters. Sometimes I was a detective, other times I became the dragon slayer. I could be anyone. But one thing I could not tolerate was for someone to read my books. Often I would hide my books under my pillows or in my blanket. I was scared.

I have always been scared. Scared that what I love would be destroyed in the hands of someone else, particularly my sister. I always believed that I could protect what I love more than anyone else. I was always scared that the pages would be torn, I was scared that the sides of the book would be folded, I was scared that they would spill water all over the book. I was always scared. If only the books could talk, I believe that they too, would prefer to be under my care. I believe that more than anything.

But as I grew up, I left home. I got into university and rented a house. I left the books at home. One day when I got back, they were gone. My mum donated them to charity because she thought that they were of no use to me anymore. They were dusty and yellowed. And at that moment it hit me. If I had given them to my sister, she could protect them as she was staying at home during the time. That was the day I realized that there would be times when I couldn't protect the things I love anymore. And instead of not knowing what their fate would be, I could give them to someone else that could possibly protect them better. To protect them when I wasn't there. To be there for them when I couldn't.

I am an adult now. I have learnt that besides book, there are more things I love that I have to give up. And sometimes, to give them up for someone else. I've tried to live my life ordinarily, but somehow I kept seeing things that filled all these places, but I can't reach them. No matter how much those things mean to me, I couldn't protect them enough.

I guess, sometimes if you let go of the things you love, there might be someone else who can protect them better than you do. And so for all the things I love that I've let go of, I hope you are in better hands, wrapped around the arms of someone who can protect you better than me. I hope the warmth lasts.