I have never been afraid of a day ending before

until 11th May started slipping out of my hands.

Maybe the heart recognizes certain days

before the mind understands why.

I didn’t want 11th May to end.

Not because the day was extraordinary;

it wasn’t.

No beautiful moment happened,

no grand change,

no sudden happiness

worth writing stories about.

It was ordinary in every possible way.

Quiet.

Random.

Almost forgettable.

Yet when midnight came closer,

I felt uneasy—

like something was slowly slipping away from me

with every passing hour.

And maybe that’s what frightened me most—

that nothing special had happened,

but I still couldn’t bear to watch the day leave.

I wanted the clock to stop there.

I wanted 11th May

for the whole month of May.

I wanted time to pause

inside that date,

before it became

just another yesterday.

Because somehow,

11th May felt too temporary for me.

And while the world moved on normally,

I quietly wished

time would forget how to pass.