It hurts knowing how it will end at one point. Your birthday, a bad day, a long class at school, being stuck in the traffic jam, your childhood… everything has an end. I guess this is why they say we should enjoy each moment of our lives. It is true that we will never be younger than we are at this very moment. So why waste the moment? Might as well spread our wings, open our minds and just go wherever life will take us. Yet, rather than doing so, rather than listening to my instinct that always proved to be right, I do the exact opposite. I plan. I over think. I don’t just let life happen; I make sure what I want to happen will happen at one point or another. And in the rare moments that I just let it be, I feel complete for that moment. But the moment being nothing more than that, a future memory lost in my little treasure box deep in my heart, sooner or later the regrets sink in. And the what ifs…    


Is there any way to beautifully close a chapter in your life and move onto the next one? I sometimes wonder of how my parents were when they had my age. When they tell me pieces of their life back then, I can’t help but notice how something in them changes. How their eyes have a tiny sparkle of happiness mixed with sadness, even melancholia, how they no longer focus on me and just look into space, how they relive those moments when talking about them. I wonder if this is how I will end up like. Talking about the youth I’m supposed to live now to my future children. In a way, it sounds like the best plan for  life. I will have my family. And I will be a role model for my children, just like my parents are for me. And I will make sure my parents, grandparents’ stories will live on. But there’s the other way around: realizing I will lose something. A part of me. I guess that it all comes down to this, after all. You take something from life and have something be taken away from you.

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