Time.

It’s funny, isn’t it?
How time slips through our fingers,
never waiting, never hesitating—
a current forcing us forward
even when we long for it to stay still.

Even if it is just for a minute.

We chase after its echoes,
turning back to moments already gone,
but time never rewinds.
Because that’s just how it works.

Still, we linger in the past,
tracing the shadows of choices we never made.
We regret, we mourn,
we weave endless “What ifs” into our thoughts.

"What if I had spoken up?"
"What if I had held on a little longer?"
"What if I had let go?"
"What if I had never loved him?"

But time doesn’t answer.
It only moves—relentless, indifferent—
while we learn,
slowly, painfully,
that forward is the only way left to go.