Every year we get older, but do we really become wiser? I've been asking myself that a lot lately (especially now with my birthday coming up in about a week). We all make mistakes, but do we really learn from them? Have I grown from my experiences? Am I really wise beyond my years, or am I just hiding behind that front? How many people know the real me?
I feel like I've lost the real me. Like I'm not who I'm made out to be. And with each day that passes, and as I become more and more sick, I wonder if this is really how my life was supposed to play out. I wonder if I am really helping anyone at all, or am I just becoming more of a hurricane sweeping through everyone's lives.
"It's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." But have I really even experienced love? Like the unconditional love that a mother gives her child? I fear that I haven't and that I never will. I feel as if I'm slipping through the cracks in life, pretending to be strong. I'm not strong. I'm actually falling apart.
And this is where I look back on my 23 years of life and wonder what it is that I really have accomplished, if anything. I am at a standstill in life. I'm not pushing forward, yet not moving backwards. Just standing there, more confused than ever.
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