This is the last evening…
…my last evening as 20 years old.
I’m growing old. By this midnight, I’ll get a number added on my age. I’ll get older by a year.
I’m not happy.
People say that girls hate aging. Maybe it’s true. But that’s not the thing I’m afraid about birthday. Beside growing old, I’m very aware that birthday means my life gets shorten. Every single year as the March comes, my heart is in wonder; will I pass my birthday this year? How I’ll be doing on that sacred date? Will I still be here, breathing and smiling? In short, March 27 reminds me of death.
Each year, as the date flying nearer, I can’t help but to think of what I’ve done this whole year. Have I prepared for death? I always ask myself the same question. How if Allah says that my life should end tonight? Will I get a happy ending?