Counting down

I'm soaking in every moment, and at times I feel as if I'm about to explode. A bomb of god knows what, which creates instead of destroys when it's detinated. I'm holding on to every second, every minute and loving it. Running my hands along walls hoping to create some tactile memory to keep with me, some memory of my youth and those "good old days" which were never very good at all. I don't want it to end, and yet I know I need to move on.
Somehow, I feel as if I've been exactly here before...