I often ask myself what happens with everything left unfinished. What a disappointment should be to know that you will never have a chance to finish what you started, to say a proper goodbye, to remove the point where it should be a coma. I think it’s better that we’re not able to see the future. I fear the unknown, but knowing that the end isn’t what I expected scares me even more.
Nostalgia. Such a powerful but sad word. I feel it embracing me as I spell it. I feel it holding hands with my memories as they walk through my mind, covering everything in a black and white blanket. It’s somehow confusing. I fear. I feel nostalgic. I miss. I want to forget. I want to move forward. I want it back. I should let it go. And it wouldn’t be so confusing if doubt questions weren’t involved. What if? Should I? How could I? In this never ending battle where doubts kill everything and the unknown appears to be the light at the end of the tunnel, by giving you the impression that there might be a chance, that there is hope