Worrior

When in doubt, he worries — and vice versa. He keeps worrying what if whatever good he has fizzles out. Slip slowly out of his hands without him even noticing it. After all, hasn’t it happened before? What if he doesn’t wake up feeling like he did today? What if he wakes up as a different person altogether? What if the one he wakes up next to doesn’t see in him anymore what she claims to see? Come to think of which, that wouldn’t be as bad as him not seeing in her what he has become so used to by now.

Of course, these are just worries.

Lame thoughts at best and brilliant nots at worst.

But at the same time, he can’t get over the pattern in place. He once assumed he won’t be able to do without certain things but as time passed by, he managed to. He changed, didn’t he? Or things changed? Or was that how it was meant to be? For all his eidetic endeavours, he can’t really remember much, does he?

One of the many questions why waking up everyday hoping nothing changes has become his greatest worry of late.

Hopefully, this too shall pass. Like everything else did.

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