I am sad because I long for those fleeting good times and I wish that I might get them back, so that I could make them better, stronger, happier – anything just to show how much I cherish them. I wish I could bottle them up and just live that life.
But the most precious things are not easily replaced.
And every time the world tears, I am reminded, abruptly and painfully, of that fact, that there goes another chance of replicating a good time.
It’s like my photograph has been set on fire and all I had was that photograph. A flimsy, trivial and oh-so-easy-to-damage photograph of something long ago.
My hope is in the past. A world, a life, a moment that cannot be repeated.
I wish for the impossible because I regret so much, because I fear so much, because I have lost so much.
The world tears. And I weep. For all that was lost and for all that could have been. The world tears. And I weep. For I am lost and I do not know what will be. I weep.