I’d like to say

I have been loved. I have been hated. I have felt successful and a complete failure. I want more and I truly want less. I feel as though I have this whole living thing pegged until I have a day that reminds me how little I can know. Regrets are something I do not believe in, and yet, they haunt me. I have heard sweet words and bitterness has also tried to tear me apart.

My best friend said he’d be there no matter what. Time passed and he doesn’t want to see me anymore. The man I loved couldn’t seem to say he loved me back. He made me feel endlessly loved but society programmed me to want to hear words that shouldn’t even exist. Sometimes I want what I know isn’t right. Sometimes I read and smile because of who I have become. I feel proud to have held my ground. And sometimes I feel lonely and I feel like crying. I make others laugh and it makes me realize how wonderful I am. I cry.

I want to sing but I still haven’t written my own songs. I have a melody that carries me through although I still sometimes feel utterly silent. I have come a long way and know how far I am capable of going. But what if you don’t make it? My oldest brother loves to remind me. I trip on a stone only to find that the road ahead seems as long as the one left behind. Someone holds my hand whilst another blindfolds me. I can feel you but I can’t see you.

I would like to say that I’d wish life were easier but I would probably be lying. I would like to say I know what I believe in but sometimes I forget. I’d like to say that I try to avoid drama but it brings my heart alive when it tries to die on me. I can be more than just one thing. I’d like to be more like my mother and I wouldn’t be lying whatsoever. I’d like to say I didn’t know my father but I did. I’d like to say I haven’t pushed love away but I couldn’t keep a straight face.

I know what I know and I am who I am. Some people seem to have figured it out early on, I’m not really one of them and I accept that fact. I hope dearly to become a story. Not only an interesting storyteller but an inspiring one as well.

I might be as imperfect as the day is long but I would like to say that I have become a combination of colors, shapes and shifting shadows of light that cannot seem to figure out completely how to be.

I’d like to say more than what words were ever able to create. But for now this shall suffice. And even what I have to say will pass and so shall the moments, as quickly as I am capable of changing my mind.

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