We used to be happy, yet now, I can't seek happiness because I know not where to find it. My thoughts burdened, my eyes tired from crying. Why does money have to be the most important root to my joy? You have shared fragments of my past, and I yours, but there were pieces that were never picked up. Jaded, and lost, I'm undecided if I should stay, or leave. The reasons for staying and leaving seem distant and vague, but persistent. Stress builds in like the beating of my heart thumping in my head - constant and annoying. Life lies still bittersweet, with illusions instilled to beautify visions of it; so short-lasting, so short-lived. As time washes like the sands on shore, so will promises engraved deep in our hearts. Dramatic; we will someday look upon it, and find ourselves laughing and crying at nostalgia. Then, how pain turns into bitter smiles.

I can still smell the aroma of innocence, somewhere in my memories.