We Didn't Come This Far To Come This Far Novels & Stories

Only by forgetting death is it possible to move forward and give meaning to our lives. When death appears abruptly in front of us, we embark on a new journey into the unknown. Our departure causes pain and suffering for those who remain. Therefore, we can never forget that we are here passing through. We are foreigners in the world, passengers on this journey that is life. We need to find peace and comfort in our comings and goings, and make each day of our stay in life precious.

Translation: he didn’t want to be inconvenienced. I get blunt and straight yo the point. “This is a broken record, and I’m done with it. We were a stupid, messy ass fling, and I’m not interested in rewinding back to that part of my life. I’m done with it, and I am done with you.”

The part that still believed we weren’t done. ••••••••• We're nearing the end of this book 🥺

We have proven ourselves to be a force to be reckoned with, a pack that will stop at nothing to protect what is ours. When I look into the distant horizon, I am acutely aware that our expedition is still far from its conclusion. The road that lies ahead is enveloped in ambiguity, and the obstacles that await us are as immense as the vast expanse stretching before my eyes. Nevertheless, I remain steadfast, for I am not embarking on this venture alone.

"Don’t ever sell yourself Don’t ever let this go Don’t ever let this go away Time will tell Tell us far beyond All we think we know And all we think we can give…" The rest of the band stopped playing to let Jim go on alone, his voice filling the whole stadium with a warm tone. "Far beyond our fears Far beyond we’ll find it."

Something that felt like a promise neither of us had dared to make before. When we finally stood, the city was just a faint shimmer on the horizon. We didn’t say where we were going next. Maybe we didn’t need to. For now, it was enough that we’d made it this far. Alive. Together.

What if this was bigger? What if it all led back here? Back to this house. Back to my family. I swallowed hard as we drove away. Deep down, I could not fight the thought. This was not over, not even close.

Sure, we all talked about staying in touch, discussing about having weekend outings together and stuff, but deep down we knew life didn't work that way. I guess we'll never get a chance to test that... Shit, sorry. Give me a minute.”

Then, softer, just for me: “This isn’t over.” And with that, we ran into the night, toward the threat that refused to let us have even a moment of peace.

Much, much worse. “Come on,” I say, doing my best not to let my annihilation appear. “We have to keep moving.”