Growing old is mandatory. We age rapidly. We dream. We fail sometimes. We succeed accidentally. We plan the future with such vigor. We fall under our radar bleeding to death.We forget what we promised yesterday. We create stories everyday. That's what we call a cycle.
I was once a sixteen year old girl. I dream a lot. I dream of being successful. I even dream of having a baby of my own. I wasn't sure about future holds me back then. I was so eager to learn what life is. I was so excited to know the truth about humanity. Maturity hit me at a young age. When I was nineteen, reality faced me. I was forced to abandon my dream for a better cause. I was forced to stop my life to support someone's life. I was compelled to change.
I made so many mistakes along the way. I was young and playful. I didn't know what's the real meaning of struggle. I didn't know that tearing blood can be literal. I didn't know that losing people can cause you death. I didn't know that seeing someone you love unhappy can break your bones in thousand ways. Then life slowly killed me.
I climbed the darkest path to survival. I learned to let go of my pride. I learned to lick someone's shoe just to meet ends.I learned to eat hardwork for breakfast. I learned to dance with my own fear. I learned that life will never be fair. I learned that being poor means burden. I learned that life will be never be as sweet as an ice cream.
I walked my way up and down. I stumbled and fall. I broke my heart countless times. I gave up my everything for the sake of others. I did everything to make them comfortable. I tried my best to give them the life that they actually deserved. Even if that means giving up my own desires. Giving up my own flame.
I fooled myself in believing that I was born to please the world. That I was born to please everyone around me. That I was born to act according to their standards. That I was born not to lead but to bleed.
Then I lost it in one shot. I lost the only reason why I'm like this. The only person on Earth who stayed with me amidst of all the miseries I'm digesting. The only person who loved me. Then I started to realise that life is indeed weird. Then I started to collect all the fragments of myself. All the pieces of my broken youth. The pieces of me that I left. That I scattered to the world.
I learned that loving is not a sin. I learned that sacrifice is a gift. I learned that doing something for someone you call is not called labor. I learned that getting out of the box just to survive is not stupidity. I learned that being able to live even if you're dead inside is still a blessing.
Then I started to move. Slowly. I started to regain myself. To correct myself. To protect myself. To heal myself. To redirect my sail. To get better. And to become the person I aimed to be.
Yes, I am old and I am bold. Yes, I am no longer beautiful but I am still me. Yes, I am no longer sexy but I am still me. Yes, I am not longer that sweet sixteen girl but I am still willing to start all over.