When I was a kid I used to have hope for a bright future but my family made sure to crush that hope beneath their feet. Even when I voiced my hopes out loud they didn't care and left me feeling foolish to ever think it could have ended up any different. Like when I was looking forward to college, I couldn't wait in fact. But everyone made me hate it. It became something I wanted to be over, rather than something to be experienced.
I seem to have inherited my mother's weakness of tears, I can't help but cry every time they hurt me. It takes me by surprise how deep their cruelty can get. Even when it's expected I can't hold it in.
I kind of steered myself in this direction with the choices I made. And yet, I can't blame myself. I couldn't have seen anything not with my mind a jumbled mess with no one there to guide me back through the fog.
In the end, it's me who has to live with the choices I made and the wasted time. All I can do now is make peace with how things are and live the best way I can... it's the least I can do for myself, even if it all feels hopeless.
YOU ARE READING
Her Broken Sky
SpiritualA 21-year-old reflects on her past and tries to move forward in a desolate place. Holding on to the hope that there must be more in her future that will make it all worthwhile, if only to have the strength to endure her days and nights.
