July 14, 2017
Every day closer to a year after it happened, the more worried, the more anxious I get. Make it stop, stop time, stop the clock, I just want to turn it around, go back to 2016, when I was still so naïve, when I was so brave, when I still had a fighting chance.
I’ve changed since last year. I’ve learned so much about people, how manipulative they can be, but also how wonderful. I’ve become too old for my body and I have too much of my life planned ahead of me. I’ve realized that some dreams are so out-of-reach that it would take a miracle for it to happen, or a sort of divine intervention, and there is nothing my mortal hand can do about it.
Every day further, every day closer to a year later, I’m more terrified. Of what? I don’t know.