8.07am, London. 3.07pm, Malaysia. 17 September 2015.

Yes, I am in London. A few days after the passing of my brother. Actually, I was on the plane when he passed. I boarded the plane at 9.50am, 13 September 2015. Adik passed away not too long after that. At 10.30am. It's like he let me go first. He knows I will turn back if I found out.

My parents did not tell me too. I guess they knew too. I would just decide to not continue with this London trip. Something they have wanted for me more than I want for myself. I remember Abah telling me once, "I want so many things for you but I cannot afford it. Look where you are now, so many people are giving you opportunities, things I only imagined for you."

I don't blame them.

To let your daughter leave, and to see your son go. On the same day, at the same time.
It's okay Mama, Abah. One of us will come home to you. And the other will wait for you.

Adik, I had a hard week but when I heard you were rushed to the hospital, my blood drained. I went to see you, I broke down a few times watching you. But never in front of Mama. She was very vulnerable, she lost her uncle the day before. I'm sorry I did not spend the night accompanying you in the emergency ward.

On Saturday, I only managed to come see you after midnight. So selfish of me. I'm sorry. I didn't know that was the last time for us to spend together. It hurt me to leave you Adik. I don't know why but that night when I talked to you, I asked for your forgiveness. For not spending more time with you. For not taking care of you. For leaving you. And I asked you to wait for me to come home to you.

But you will not be there waiting for me like you always do.

How I wish for once last hug and kiss. I'm trying to be strong Adik. I am doing fine because I am grieving alone. Maybe this is Allah's plan for us. For me to remember you being alive the last time I saw you.

Al Fatihah. I hope I will be granted chance to be in heaven with you. Thank you for waiting for Mama and Abah, I've always been thankful you secured their place there, I'll come see you when I am allowed to.

InsyaAllah.

How do I cope?

I have not seen or feel the difference. So how do I cope? I've not known it.

Its already weird when you are the one receiving condolence messages.

I am not home, so I do not know how I am coping.

Al Fatihah. Zamil Fahmi bin Ahmad Fahmi, 23 November 1992 - 13 September 2015.

Trying so hard to hold on to what's left of the strenght I have. Forcing myself to not allow it eating me up. How can something I was so eager to start, be the same reason I feel stuck in a rut?

Never stay in a bad relationship they say. What should I do then? Simply leave? After years of build up?

It used to be so enjoyable. It was fun. I wanted to spend a lot of time, most of my time. If felt like a reward.

Now its just a loooooooooooooooooooooooooong uneventful routine. Its no longer exciting. Where is the rush?

I must learn to let go. If it is in another place I can find that little spark to begin again, then I shall go. A traveller should always wander. An explorer will always find wonder.

Its time to dream for that relationship of a writer, a photographer and their mutual love for travelling with each other.