*knock knock*

"Come in," muttered a croaking, yet delicate voice.

"Ah, there you are. I've been waiting for you for so long. How have you been?"

I just saw you yesterday. "Sorry, I've been busy this whole week with work," I answered monotonously.

"How's that girl you've been seeing? What was her name again?"

"She's fine. We're still together." We're married with two little kids running around the house.

You asked the same questions as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and I couldn't help but answer differently each day. 

"The US and Russia are going to war," I said, in a half-hearted attempt to change the topic.

"Dear God, how did that happen? These things don't just happen overnight."

You're right. They don't. In fact, it took years of rising tensions until it boiled over. Years. 

"How was church? I've really missed everyone, although it's only been a few weeks."

I haven't gone to church, or any religious establishment for that matter, for more than 3 years. "It was okay. You know, the usual."

Then we talked on and on for hours until the nurse interrupted to tell me that visiting hours were over, and I had to leave.

Before leaving, I clasped her hands tightly, not wanting to let go. I caressed her wrinkly, aged face; feeling with my fingertips the deepness of the creases. It's funny how people say that time heals the deepest of wounds, because these wrinkles that time has left sure feel like scars to me. She looked into my eyes, confused, but compassionate.

"Go on, son. You can see me tomorrow," she said through her smile.

As a matter of fact, yes, I will see you tomorrow, and the days to come. But I know all too well how the next day you'll greet me with the same greeting and how it stings my heart when you do, because although I've only left you for the night, you make it sound as if I haven't seen you in weeks.

"Goodbye."