Childhood feels like a lifetime ago, and the years seem almost doubled in time to what I take as my reality.
As I look back and think about this time, I see someone I hardly remember anymore, but I want to be able to help her.
It's painful to watch, because she's in denial, and she's in the middle of a thousand cycles.
None of which she can see, and none of which she can control.
Her mind is a cyclone, and her life is a minefield, and as she tries to carefully maneuver through the minefield. without causing destruction, the cyclone has a different idea.
I look back in a bittersweet notion, because I know what I have now, but I know what I wish I had then.
I choose to love, because I know what the pain feels like, to have life become my biggest heartbreak.
But I also choose to live, because I know how it feels, to have given up my life for the belief I had in the false security of man.
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