Bitter Strawberries

Fifty-seventh. That's the fifty-seventh kid Kai sent home crying this month. I swear, he's trying to break some sort of record or something.

You know, I've always compared being with him to eating a pack of bitter strawberries. Stupid, I know, but it works. Everything begins when you see the strawberries. They catch your eye: big, red, tasty-looking, beautiful. Who on Earth can resist that? Anyway. You take a bunch of them, bring them with you, and take a bite.

Yeeeeuuuukkkk!

The second the flesh touches your tongue you feel sick, because it's bitter and disgusting and doesn't taste like a strawberry should. You swallow with difficulty and get ready to throw them all with the trash. But you don't.

Because you hope that some of them might be sweet. Because you want to get used to the bitterness so you can appreciate them better. There might be a million becauses, but you don't throw them away.

So you keep eating. And you begin to like them, so you don't stop eating. You then realize the bunch you took is completely gone. You're upset, because you were beginning to enjoy them. You try not to be jealous when you see another eating some. You try to forget about them, but your lips refuse to. But when you can finally get some more later, you can't help but finding them sweeter.

But one day, you can't take out some more. The pack is empty, and it ends up with the trash, forgotten. And when I think about that, I can't help but wonder. Will that ever happen to us?

I don't think it will. I mean, with all these new things, even the snow can't stop strawberries from growing, right? In these high-tech places, the snow can't reach and take the strawberries away. Therefore, I can have some forever. But what if...what if...what if it's not enough?

By the way, did I ever tell you that bitter strawberries are my favourite food?