Are you really sure? Are you really, really sure that there is no way? No way at all?
I couldn't bring myself to ask those questions, even though I felt quite desperate at the time. But I just couldn't voice my frustrated thoughts out loud. A resigned "Thanks, anyway" and I left. Maybe deep inside, I already know that it wasn't possible.
`
Mistakes.
We make them. Sometimes we learn from them, sometimes we do; sometimes we just don't want to. Some mistakes can be rectified or undone. But certain mistakes, you can never ever undo. Once made, there just doesn't seem to be any way to make things right..
Time.
How often we wish to turn back time when you realize such mistakes. But time slips through our fingers, silently and swiftly; we grasp at it, trying to capture each grain, but each grain, a moment, is ephemeral; it escapes our hands and is lost forever among the myriad of sand.
But it is because of that very nature of moments that we ought to cherish every second, isn't it? The brevity and beauty of each moment in time is something that we often forget. We forget to count our blessings. And before we know it, that moment is gone, and we cannot turn back time, no matter how much we wish for it.
Regrets.
There shouldn't be room for regrets, even when it's tempting to wallow in that bottomless pit of self-pity. But sometimes, after all is said and done, maybe regrets are all that's left. Then that's when the struggle begins.
`
But you know what.
It'll be alright.
I couldn't bring myself to ask those questions, even though I felt quite desperate at the time. But I just couldn't voice my frustrated thoughts out loud. A resigned "Thanks, anyway" and I left. Maybe deep inside, I already know that it wasn't possible.
`
Mistakes.
We make them. Sometimes we learn from them, sometimes we do; sometimes we just don't want to. Some mistakes can be rectified or undone. But certain mistakes, you can never ever undo. Once made, there just doesn't seem to be any way to make things right..
Time.
How often we wish to turn back time when you realize such mistakes. But time slips through our fingers, silently and swiftly; we grasp at it, trying to capture each grain, but each grain, a moment, is ephemeral; it escapes our hands and is lost forever among the myriad of sand.
But it is because of that very nature of moments that we ought to cherish every second, isn't it? The brevity and beauty of each moment in time is something that we often forget. We forget to count our blessings. And before we know it, that moment is gone, and we cannot turn back time, no matter how much we wish for it.
Regrets.
There shouldn't be room for regrets, even when it's tempting to wallow in that bottomless pit of self-pity. But sometimes, after all is said and done, maybe regrets are all that's left. Then that's when the struggle begins.
`
But you know what.
It'll be alright.
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