All the time left for me, is just a little bit more than 3 weeks.
Calls have been made, emails have been written, and everything else has been confirmed. The operation has been a success, days before the absolute deadline.
When I make a decision, I try not to regret it. Today, someone questioned my booking of ticket, and it annoyed me quite a bit. As soon as my plan comes into effect, there's no stopping it. It's like a wheel rolling down the slope; if it's destined to reach down the bottom, why would someone waste his time doing something so thoughtless? Of course he can make suggestions beforehand, or criticize me after the plan has failed, but doing it right now would just take courage out of me. Don't say whatever you wish just because you're the elder, a well-thought plan by a youth isn't necessarily inferior to a senior's whim-of-mind comment. If you try to laugh it off, then we shall wait and see what will happen.
All that aside, today was, at best, uneventful. And when things get peaceful, I will helplessly think of you again. I once thought separation by time and space would be hard to tolerate, like how I couldn't stand it if I hadn't seen you for a day, and you were miles away from me. Looking ahead, I have to give a bitter laugh at my naivety: this time, we'll be apart by thousands of miles, and it's going to last months before I ever get to see your face again. Talk about relative. I just hope before time's passing wears out my memory again, you appear in front of me once more.
I'm not used to being this direct with myself, and I don't know whether to feel good or bad when I do this once in a while. I admit the peace of mind has gone out of me right now, and while I'm waiting for it to come back to me, please bear with all my imprudence and careless words. For if I hold only one truth within, that is I will always, with all that I have, care about you.