The crescendo was never ending. I kept waiting for it to die down, but it never did.

"Get used to it - honeymoon's over"

The most audible whisper I've ever heard. How can you believe it then? It could just be a fancy of my imagination. How could I ignore it too? Because if it's my imagination, does it mean I am going crazy?

"Tricky"

This time I thought.

"Give it a break. In the end it doesn't even matter"

I was thinking more now. Justifying to myself that whatever is happening is least important.

But Regret had fount its way. Like those bloody rodents, you do your best to keep them out - but they still get in.

Okay. I'll go for it.