As the morning sunlight wakes me from deep slumber, I am instantly struck with memories of a night I'm not sure I want to remember. I'm becoming the boy I always swore I wouldn't be, yet here he stands, laughing at me, taunting me, because he knows he won. But the thing is, I don't despise this boy anymore, I don't even hate him one bit. I haven't changed, I'm just growing into who I've always been. You see, life comes at you fast. It runs through your body, your veins, and it tries to escape. It wants to break free in anyway possible, sort of like lightning. The journey I've been on, will eminently reach its final stop. So the question remains, where do I go next, and more importantly, do I even have the strength to embark on another one? Fight or flight has never held deeper meaning, never before has it engorged itself so profoundly within my soul. But even if tomorrow doesn't come, today shall be grand, spent, and perhaps even lived.
