I used to be afraid of so many things: that I'd never grow up, that I'd be trapped in the same place for all eternity, that my dreams would forever be shy off my reach.
It's true what they say: time plays tricks on you. One day you're dreaming, and the next your dream has become your reality.
And now that the scared little boy no longer follows me wherever I go. I miss him. I do.
Because there are things I wanna tell him: to relax, to lighten up, that it is all going to be OK.
I want him to know that meeting people who likes you, who understands you, who actually accepts you for who you are will become an increasingly rare recurrence.
There are people who contributed to who I am, they are with me wherever I go. And as history gets rewritten in small ways with each passing day, my love for them only grows.
Because the truth is it was the best of times. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken and harsh lessons learned. But all that has receded to a fond memory now.
How does it happens? Why are we so quick to forget the bad and romanticize the good?
Maybe is because we need to believe that the time we spent together actually meant something, that we were there for each other in a time in our lives that defined us all. A time in our lives that we will never forget.
I can't swear this is exactly how it happened, but this is how it felt.