My heart is heavy as I feel the weight on my shoulders, the end of the long day pushes on me. I want to lie down and forget it all but it is only a momentary rest; I only put off the inevitable. I wish to doze off and sleep soundly, hoping to wake up and realise it was a dream but I know deep down that all these are lies to myself. It won't be the same without you for sure and I'm afraid to understand what life will be back in Melbourne when you are no longer around. It's the echoes of memories that will be around the corner as we pass the street we joked at, took photos at, and simply goofed around. There will be times you wonder as to how such a large imprint has been left onto our lives, just merely knowing someone for a relatively short time. I don't know what I fear the most, either what has happened or what will come. I think it is the fear of the future that creates a cold sweat.
In this international society where meetings and departures occur so frequently it shouldn't come as a shock any longer, but it nevertheless hurts to know that time, that constant moving facade, will pass and we will stay as stagnant beings - our lives too short to have even understood what the true meaning of time is. And as we look down into the abysmal and dark setting around us, with the light to our backs - will we really have lived life as it was meant to be lived? Or have we mocked ourselves into believing that we have lived on the edge, and experienced all that was available to us. The faces that we see everyday may very well be the faces that we pass on the street; infallible, unrecognisable, and incomprehensible. I wish to be happier and this moment. I wish I could say that tomorrow will be a better day but at this point, I cannot. The truth is harsh - facing up to it is harsher. When will we escape this cruel cycle? When will we live for the day?
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