If the sun were to explode and stop, you wouldn't know it for eight minutes, because that's how long it takes for the light to travel to us. For eight minutes, the world would still be bright and warm.
My eight minutes of you will be up in a couple of months when you leave and I finally realize that it truly is over. Until then, I live with hope. This is my 135th day of hoping against all odds and all the clear writings on the wall. Although I try really hard to not, but no harm done if it makes me feel a bit better, right ? Even if I know there is possibly enormous disappointment at the end of the tunnel, this is the only way I know. This is the only way I stretch my eight minutes with you.
