And Even If Love Was Lost, Chapter 1

I am tired of hearing you say it never happens to us.

I am also tired of hearing you say it’s all because of the media.

I have faith in what I see. And what I see tells me that I don’t want my mother, tired and weary with a burden far too heavy for her frail body and her old age, to, one of these day, witness the same incident happens to her children.

No mothers, no matter what choices they made, what mistakes they committed, what sins they fell into, deserve to witness their children going through the same incident.

Yes. Tomorrow will always happen. Tomorrow will always come. And perhaps even before we amend what we have broken, the tomorrow we fear is already here.
And yes. We don’t know what tomorrow may bring. We don’t know if that tomorrow is better for us or for them. And anyways, be us or them, we are all on the same side. After all, Death doesn’t judge anyone based on anything.

But at the end of the day, I am here. Not choosing side. Tired of the philosophical question of right and wrong. Crying for what we can’t change, what we can change but chose not to, and what we already changed but made so, so little effort on everything.

I am only here, wishing that the tomorrow that will come, one of these days, that tomorrow will be better for my children, and all children that are asking to be born.

And I am willing to lay my life down to bet on that tomorrow.

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