There are a lot of things we have to do that we don't want to do. The hardest things are the most important. The bigger the mountain to climb, the more out of breath you will be. The more time you will spend on that one mountain. The farther your goal is, the harder you'll work for it.
    You can't always choose when you will have to do these things. You never have a choice in time. Whether you are early or late, you are never on time. You will always be a second over or under.
    You can't rewind time. Can't go back to fix things if they go wrong either. Just like flowers. You can't bring flowers back to life. Once they are withered and droopy you have to throw them out. But flowers can be replaced. As for time, there is tomorrow. And the next day. You can spend hours trying to go back and patch things back together.
   Soon hours turns into days. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months end up becoming years. You will continue going back to fix what you did wrong. The funny thing is you don't know what you did wrong.
  You are trying to fix something you didn't do. Something you were blamed for. Something that was put into your head. Wasting years of your life trying to go back to that one place in time.
     That one moment. That one beautiful moment where you were happy. You had a real smile. A smile you couldn't get rid of. A smile that not only left a whisper of itself on your lips, but the lips of others.
   You wanted to go to bed early to wake up the next day. You were always early. Always on time. Or so you thought. After a while to you, time became meaningless. After that happiness became bitter. Your smile was less than a whisper. It was a memory. A memory you will hold onto.
    A memory that hid the bad. A memory that covered the beating. A memory that covered the yelling. A memory that covered the crying. That covered the pain. A memory you held onto at night. A memory that blossomed in your mind the last night. The night everything became meaningless. That night you sat in your bathroom crying. Carrying on. Not only remembering the good but the bad.
   You sat on your sink, tears streaming down your face. The rain was pounding on your window. As if trying to make you let it in. Telling you that you have it if all else fails.    
     You didn't care about anything. You said that about a hundred times. Not only in your head but out loud. Till you didn't care about anything. Or so you thought. Truthfully you cared about everything.
   You sat there. Tears making hot paths down your face. Leaving a light burning sting to remind you of them. You had your hands fisted in your hair. Pulling out strand by strand. The hair silently gliding onto the tile floor. Joining your tears.
You sat there all night remembering. You remembered, and remembered, and remembered.
    Until, you became a memory.