Losing Me

Just the beginning of a story i'm writing, should i continue?




Charles Bukowski once wrote: "We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us"

As inspiring as those words are, they are also depressing. How can one live in such a way? As a child I dreamed of dragons, Kings and trees that spoke, I imagined mighty men and books that could show you magic. The world was at my fingertips. When exactly does that feeling go away? When did the dragons die and the mighty men perish? 
Maybe it was while I was busy at school or starting to notice boys. Slowly, quietly, the light in my eyes, the magic, got dimmer. 

I guess at some point, or maybe little by little, reality starts to creep in. Priorities change and innocence is lost. 

Now at twenty my creativity is nearly gone, as is my innocence. Was it possible to be so young and feel as if my life has passed me by? 

I stood in a now empty room, where I had spent most of my childhood. The pink wallpaper was peeling and there was a mark on the floor where my dresser used to be. So many memories dwindled down to this moment.  This moment is the moment i'm never going to forget. 

This is the moment where I leave my childhood home, the place where all my memories are, at least the ones that are worth keeping, and never come back. 

The last piece of my family.

The beep outside, told me, my cab was here. This was it. I was a afraid, but i remember what my Mother had always said, there can't be courage without fear.

Here goes nothing...



To be continued.....