My family is broken. It's been that way for so many years, and I expect to feel numb every time I remember how it all happened, but I still feel the dull stabbing pain I felt back when it was happening. It still feels so fresh and new.

But I learned how to cope with it. My closest friends helped me through it without even knowing. They've made me a part of their families and although I longed for my own, I still felt loved. But the hugs, the advices, the caring words, the genuine friendship, although truly appreciated, are really different from the ones I get from my real family. It's been ages since I felt secure through a mother's touch, and protected by a father's arms. My youngest brother is in the US now and I'm living with my other brother. And he's never there. Well he is...but isn't. He's never there when I get excited over something. He's never there when I feel sad. Never there when I need him. I talk to him and my voice is part of the world's everyday noise. There--but never heard.

Now it feels as if I'm standing on one side of a street looking at the other side, where all the other people are, including my friends. They smile at me, wave at me, cheer for me, and then it all dies down after some time. And I'm left alone at my side of the street. I walk and I enjoy what I see, and then after some time, I don't anymore. And I look to the other side and everyone's just immersed in their own thing. Even my brother.

I occupy my mind with work. I fill my to do list until I am so swamped that I don't remember I'm alone on my side of the street.

They say your friends will fill whatever gap your family leaves when it is shattered to pieces. And I'm telling you, none of that is true. They don't fill whatever gap you long for a mother, a father, a brother or a sister to fill in. They just pass by, linger, and then leave. Happiness with friends is seasonal. Like alcohol. Like gimmicks. Like money.

And the only thing you hold on to is hope. And faith. Which, surprisingly, I still have a lot of.

I used to think "Was it me? Have I done something wrong to ruin the perfect life we used to have?" and then it dawns on me...nothing ever "just happens". It is all written.

And all I can do is hope, and have faith.

Hope. Have faith.

..and then, at my side of the street, alone, looking out...I know I am still whole.