Sometimes, something happens that you think, that you know, that from thereon, nothing good will ever come, ever. But you're scared, and because hurting is better than feeling nothing at all, you give yourself one more day, another day, another week. And then this pops up that makes leaving there and now impossible, too painful for the others, that you wait, one more day. And time passes, it's all it ever does. And you end up celebrating the first anniversary of something you had sworn yourself you would never celebrate. And now what? Another day? Another week, another year? The absurdity of it all, because you are too much of a coward to do what you set out yourself to do. And you end up hating yourself more than you did before. Time heals nothing at all.