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Probably for the first time, I got exhausted talking. I was surprised with what doubts and issues we dealt with, with how complicated we could make the things I thought would be settled in our minds by now. Honestly, I wanted to help. I wished I had all the answers so I could share perhaps less shaky faith. Or talked more clearly not to add confusion. But I had to admit, I was losing my cool. which was the most wrong thing to do., I knew then, but I was mad at how skeptical we were at different degrees. The whole conversation seemed to be an attempt to vent the most persisting questions. At least the struggle to find answers, I wished was there as well.

But maybe I was hoping for too much. Maybe I wasn't in the right place to resolve the tiny chaos in our heads. Maybe it was a reminder. Because the disturbing feeling I had hearing hanging queries nudged my faith, spelled out again to me where I stood, and made me want more than ever not to wander away from there. Somehow I realised how blessed I was that what faith I had, I was guided to have ever since I was a kid. Because now that I've grown up and learned to ask why and how, it's what assures me there is more to what I may not know. I don't wait for the day I get to know it all, but for when questions won't matter anymore.