Sometimes when we make choices, we don't really realise how big of an impact they can have on our future. How everything would be different if we didn't walk through that door, if she didn't wave, if we had the strength to jump. So when I look back and wonder what made me this way, unable to go through a single day, without sabotaging every chance I get to be happy, I somehow always end up at the exact same moment. As it creeps from the very clutches of my heart, an overwhelming sense of sorrow rushes over me. And once again I feel numb to the world.
It seems like I'm being dragged through life, all the while struggling to slow down. Wishing for a new beginning, for another chance. The screwed up part is that somewhere deep down inside, I actually believe I still might get it. It's slipping away, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's being torn apart by the clutches of the outside world, forcing me to grow up, forcing me to stop dreaming, and start living. I wonder, who am I without my dreams?
