Every now and then, we ask ourselves, "Where do I really belong in this world?"

The word belong, the word purpose, both of them are so deeply bound to each other that they cannot exist without the other in the face of existance.

We realize every now and then, that we don't really belong on the road we've decided to take; and we slip away.

And we hope that for a while, maybe the world will forget enough about us not to hurt when we do decide to go. But after time, we realize then that we did, or didn't, belong all along.

We then live and die happily, knowing we meant something... At least to one person.

Is this what it means to belong? To be loved? I wish it to be so... For if it isn't, then, I truly don't know.

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