The Fears of the Hour

As I sit here on this cool bench in the light, partly bathed in the halogen lamps on the campus ground, I find myself unable to come up with any topic for the next post. I am, I feel, too lost in my own fears and questions about the future.

So how about if I talk about them today?  Welcome to Narrating The Dream and this personal post is about the fear of what happens when the sands of time redirect us to familiar territories.

“With what reason will I ever really return here?” My mind questions and though I can figure out a few short term logical answers, none address the emotional aspect. After all, won’t we be strangers here once all we knew, the things and people we have always mentally forever linked to this place, is gone? It is said that home is where the heart is but with the things, the people, that make a place home, isn’t it just a resting spot?

For what reason will I return to a resting spot, even if I rested for years here? This is the time before the official farewell, my mind tells me today, almost 24 hours after I typed the words above, as I sit on a divider (the small solid structure for separating the two sides of the road) of the road inside the campus under the street lamp.

The night is quiet once more and the feelings of loneliness are overpowering.
And the saddest part is that I am too worried about it to really enjoy this time. I am too busy to be able to enjoy them, honestly, but isn’t there something special to be between me and this place?

I guess not. If we came here without some significant event, then why shall the departure be any different?

But I am lying right now. Even if not for everyone, this time is special for me and others with me. The return, if ever, will be for the sake of those I has the pleasure of being with. (I am typing too fast now I doubt the truth in these words). Now only if I could feel the trepidation that ought to accompany it…
Change is the one constant. I know this but it doesn’t seem I have accepted it.

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