Going Through The Dark

Someone once told me life was about the journey, and not what you conquer at the end; that when it’s over, in your very last moments, all you’ll remember is the good people you met, the good things you did, and the happy moments you lived. Right there, feeling the wind against my face, looking at all of them laughing, laughing with them, I could feel it, I could make a meaning out of those words and be happy about it. I had something worth dying for, I had a reason to live. They were the reason, and I would never give up on them. Ever. Life was not perfect, but its imperfection made it perfect. And like I once read: “In that moment, I swear, we were infinite”. And we definitely were.