Farewell is always hard. It`s like to be a half cut tree – trunk is
agonized and spits out the juice, while roots are still deep into the ground. Time has to pass before a new top grows. But the scar left by the teeth of a saw will
never disappear. Always reminding about the terrifying event
that changed the life of the tree forever. You know it`s better this way, after a week,
a month or someday it will get better, but those happy years waiting ahead can`t sweep
away those few torturing hours now. Time goes by, but you`re constantly behind
– always without a breath failing to catch the arrows of a clock. What else can be said here?