A few nights ago, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was in OBS and it was the last night where all the parents would come to see how their kid fared throughout the torturous 10 days, be entertained by mediocre performances and eat half-burned chicken drumsticks that smelt strangely of kerosene. Ahh..OBS. But that's another story.

Anyway, so I was dreaming that I was there, right? And my dad was there. Which was weird, because my parents have never been to a single BBQ Night and they always pick me up 2 days after. So I walked up to him, and found myself asking him where my mom was.

And you know, the good thing about dreams is that..no matter how real they are, there's always this little thing that's 'off' about it. Some little detail that tells you that you're in a dream.

Well, this dream was fucking real and there was
nothing 'off' about it at all.

So yea, I asked my dad where my mom was and he looks up at me and says, I don't know.

What do you mean, you don't know?
I don't know. I don't even know if she's still Mom or if she's already a 'Thing'.
WHAT? omg.

And in that moment, I knew my mom was dead.

And because the dream was so real, I started to cry. And I couldn't wake up. Because the dream was so real there was nothing for me to focus on to bring me back to reality. Because everything seemed so real. And everything seemed like reality.

And I cried.

And then I woke up.

And today, my parents flew off to Bangkok. I had this strange feeling throughout the day. Maybe it's just me being paranoid.

But I've always carried this fear of being an orphan...right through when I was a kid till now. The difference now is that I can rationalize.

I can ask myself, Could you handle it if it does happen?

And I think I can now answer, Yes...I could.

And throughout the whole bus ride home, I envisioned all these scenarios. Morbid scenarios. Scenes where I'm managing all these things. Scenes where there's all these people shaking my hands and telling me how sorry they were. Scenes where I'm packing up the house and selling the cars because we don't need so many of them now. Scenes where I'm reassuring people that I'm really truly fine I don't need your help please go away. But then I realised...maybe I couldn't handle it after all. Because in the final scene, I saw myself drinking shots upon shots of vodka and glasses upon glasses of wine...drinking away to numb the pain.

So please, you two. Don't go doing crazy things there. I know it's a bloodless coup sanctioned by the King...but...just don't go doing crazy things. I don't think I'm quite ready yet.