And then I picked up the pen and started writing, for writing is the only way to drawn my sorrows. Writing about you, us, writing about the past and the future, writing about the lines that are still to be written, writing about what it's written and forgotten.

Or not.

And then, I saw my reflection in the mirror. Watching myself how I was writing. Watching myself how I was struggling to answer inexplicable questions.

Because there are questions that have no answer. There are questions posed by life itself, as an attemp to make our lives a bit more exciting. Questions that bring with them headaches, sleepless nights, tears. But whose answer, we'll never know.

We'll never know why we sit here, doing nothing about us. We'll never know why we waste this time, this precious time, wondering why, instead of throwing ourselves to life. Throwing ourselves to what we are and what we feel, with no regrets.

Because I have no regrets.

No regrets whatsoever.