Whilst Awake

My childhood memories littered all over the floor. Photographs of me scattered: smiling, winking, dancing, standing up to walk. The room was a mess. I was trying to find something, rather, myself.

Growing up shielded and protected made me what I am. Afraid.

Afraid of so many things, of so many situations. Afraid to lose, to regret, to be rejected, to not be recognized, to be alone.

And I have known and accepted that fact.

Sometimes when I'm all alone, my mind wanders through questions I ask myself over and over. Like a broken recorder. I know the answers yet refuse to acknowledge them.

I am afraid, too, of commitments. And that is why I think my relationships don't last. I always tell people I don't count my past anymore. Flashbacks can be telling to recall.

But why?

Weakness of the heart, the will. The push needed. I lack that.

Yes, yes I really do.

Drama in relationships, I mostly quit after that. I don't like dramas. I don't like to cry anymore. Tears of blood had been shed. Soul withers.

And finally, I picked the childhood photographs on the floor, kept them sealed and looked at myself in the mirror...

"Will I ever get stronger?" I asked the person in front of the mirror.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths." - William Shakespeare