Promises are fickle things. They strain when held onto too long, cracking like old concrete trampled by scurrying feet.
Of course, it doesn’t seem to matter when you’re young, innocent. Burdens of times yet to come unbelievable, immaturity and stubbornness clouding your vision of the future. But age comes with much. Opportunities, beliefs, knowledge. You can do so much, it’s almost overwhelmi...