I miss you to the extent that it hurts for awhile; awhile for now then later there it strikes again. What to do with the story that didn’t end well? Or that sentence without a period but instead left a bold hue of question mark?Sometimes, yet most times I don’t get how playful fate is- wicked, depressing and hanging. We see ourselves smiling when it all started, painting rainbows and throwing cheers but not later than sooner, tears blocked the pave way. How unmannerly that situation became and every memory that goes with it infects our senses. How unlucky we are, sorry not sorry. And I say to the air: How dare you! Tell me when to take it slow or where to jump in for good so I’ll see myself away from regrets. Help me to cope up today and run afar from yesterday. I want to be happy, just happy and nothing else but happy and I am now. I should, I could and I would. Mark my word, mark it.