Not Sick But Not Well.

This day wasn't an exception. I cried over and over until I could no longer, I wiped my tears and took the packages in my arms after opening the door.

In the house, nothing new. They were still talking, so I had time to drop off the packages, and without even opening one, I headed to the showers, cleaned my face with water, and went to my room.

This is roughly how my days as a child went. I know that it cannot be described as an ideal childhood, but it would certainly be the most beautiful period of my life. Despite family conflicts, school conflicts, loneliness, and fear, I was happy. I was happy because they were all there, happy because they always remained, despite my faults, and happy. After all, I knew that I had not yet experienced the worst. Happy because I knew, that sooner or later everything would end. So yes, I was as cowardly and useless as they all claimed and even more naive than they would have believed, but this vision that I had at that age kept me going.

Although the truth was hard to accept, I was given no choice. So I accepted life as it came; I accepted myself and my truth, my weaknesses, and the fact that I had to get used to the idea that I would always be the first actor to die in films.