Flip through the pages of a calendar. You would see numbers which would mean nothing unless the days they represent have been filled with events. You would not feel each digit’s importance unless something happens, an occurence enough to leave a mark. Seek not its rate of leaving, rather, its power to make you lose imporant things. In just one flip, in just a passage of numbers, you would realize that the sooner another day passes, the sooner you face your fears of what will come.
I can barely describe how I would wish to react to what will soon take place. I am used to the fact that people just come and go. They return, if they wish to, but to say that they will return without changing a thing is pure mediocrity. It’s my greatest fear, that drastic changes will become reasons, and reasons will make me lose strength to hold on.
Everytime I hear the word “Canada”, I just reach the point of getting down on my knees, wishing that, fates will change and plans will be forgotten. It’s hypocrisy that I tell eveybody that it’s completely okay when it’s not.
In the end, confessions will not break what has been planned.