Ever since I was a little girl my head was always in the clouds. Every single teacher I ever had complained to my mother how I never paid attention to anything because I was somewhere else, in my own world.

            And I was, in my own world you could say. The world that didn’t exists the world that was waiting to happen. I would fill my head with thoughts of my future, what it would look like, who would be in it. I imagined myself time and time again as someone different.

            Sometimes a doctor who saved lives in stressful situations, or a teacher who changed the hearts of troubled students. One day I could be a famous pop start with triple platinum records and the next I was an independent painter struggling to pay rent but happy.

            I spent so much of my time figuring out the life I wanted to have, that I forgot to do the simple mundane task that is living. I wasted so many years writing in journals about the person I wanted to be that I forgot to mention the person I was, the person I had been.

            But that all changed one year. Someone unexpectedly stumbled into my life and never in any of my wildest dreams would I have imagined them to be the one who fixed me. The one who helped me see that life isn’t all about figuring out what’s going to happen next but enjoying what’s happening now.

            

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