I don't know where to start. The ceiling became a familiar view, playing out every possibility that life would be in my favor. I look to the left, and I see a frame of how I evolved over the years.
The child that expressed happiness for the camera as he stood up in the cot to the teenager that smiled, but on the inside, he was sad, confused, and depressed.
The first thing that I have to admit is that I think taking the steps to becoming an adult is scary. It's the change that makes me scared because I ask myself if I am ready to step out into the world. I could be overthinking it.
Another thought that came to my mind is that I began to realize that my heart was not on the right path. It yearned, searched, believed false pretenses and illusions, and in some instances made me regret every word and action that was made by myself.
Life was never meant to be easy, and every day, I try to get a single fragment of maturity to be a better person, but its complexity is exhausting.