Not until I met you, did I ever imagine how fragile one's heart could be. Not until I met you, did I realize that recurring situations won't make you all-strong and all-immune. Not until I met you, did I ever see how a soft heart could long for so much.
I'm sorry you have to endure the state you have. In my most valid position, I wanted you to know that these words won't make up for the weight of things you're carrying. I'm sorry that you have to spend the rest of your life worrying about how tomorrow will turn out. But I wanted you to know that you have your own hands to change your everyday into something. I'm sorry that there has been a blur of distinguishing between genuine love and care and ones that are not. All I wanted you to know is ate's giving you a true one.
Don't be sorry for the things you can't change, not even for the ones you can't do. I may not assure you of a better situation tomorrow, but better or not, I'd be there, and the people who love you will be there. So hold on, okay?
Let's take it one day at a time to figure it out. May it be the slowest progress or the fastest one, as long as it is still that trying to find a tiny light at the end of the tunnel is what keeps you getting up every morning, it still is.
And perhaps you're 101st plan could make it better.
