I lean comfortably at the highest of tree, feeling the coldness of wind blow harsh to my face now and then, waiting for warm that will not possible yet I consistently ask to embrace me. So far, either for the sake of faith nor of staining the comforting life I have, never once cross my mind to ever consider the both at the same time.“You're stuck to that time, Arsy,” someone says, lecturing, “you should learn to move forward. Time passes, yet warmth cease to exist. Aren't you tired?” He approach slowly, his white suit stain with dirt all over, he even shivering to the cold. Though I don't think he will stop just to gives me the peace I wanted.From leaning comfortably, I jump from the highest of trees and landed with a bang. “Aren't you tired of nagging?” I ask as he cough to the dust hurling about to the impact.“I'm tired seeing you this way,” he said, sure are weary. “Remembering that moment as if happen yesterday? I never find someone as earnestly such you, Arsy.”“You think I'm
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