It didn't make sense then

I wish I am as strong as you. I wish I can turn around, take a step towards the opposite direction, drag the other foot along and step again, and fight every urge to look back. 

So many long sleepless nights, telling myself, promising that I'll start, and then chicken out the next morning. The dark is too comforting, because everything seems prettier when part of it is left unseen. I guess the morning sheds too much light, bright enough for me to notice everything that could go wrong along the way.

It's 7.30pm and it's not dark outside, not yet. The world is coated with a layer of blue, the kind of blue that makes me feel uncomfortable. It's one more day spent stuck in the static present. A day spent with no change. Gosh I'm such a coward. 

You once told me, very nonchalantly over a tall glass of cold coffee, that people don't always register what you're giving to them. Be it your faith or your entire heart or your soul even, they don't always see the signicance of it. And they don't (and will never) be obligated to give anything in return. It's how it works. 

You said that we must always come back to ourselves, and make sure that we are protected from the unfairness and the cruelty the world has against us, as selfish as it may seem to those who are observing. Because nobody will feel what you feel, your emotions will always belong to you and only you. The frustration, the tears, the urge to scream at the top of your lungs, you're the sole being that will experience that. 

People is going to judge and say all kinds of things about you, and it's going to hurt you, so much that you wished you didn't instead. But at least dip down, you know that you're free, free from the fences you've been building around yourself. 

Your boldness, it's stunning.