Have I already…?

If you’re reading this, you’re probably expecting a sad story judging by its title. Not to disappoint you, maybe it is, maybe it’s not, but maybe you’ll decide after reading it.

As a child I’ve always been cautious around strangers, never really trusted people except those I call friends and family. So you can imagine, a weird fella like me found it very hard to meet people.

I was raised by my mother, a God fearing woman, though I admit, my mother is old school….a teacher by profession ironically so very strict. I can’t complain about my upbringing I was a happy child. I have vivid memories of my father, he passed when I was still young, though I can’t tell you much about him but those vivid memories I have of him have always been enough for me.

In life I’ve always believed that everyone can dream, I have dreams too, when I’m asleep or awake… As soon as I shut my eyes or mouth when I’m alone I dream. To be honest, through all that dreaming I’m a realistic person. I know which dreams are possible, those that make me feel better like I’m working towards something great, and then there are those that I’m realistic enough to know…. ‘that’s impossible’. But that’s what dreams are in my opinion, they give people hope.

Hope….. More like, if you still dream it means you’re still alive, simple like that. By this age in life that I’m in, I thought I’d have my own job, have my own car, married with kids. But guess what…. I have none of it, never even came close to it. Have I completely failed in life or its all still possible for me?. As I mentioned I’m a realistic person. A part of me knows, not to be negative here but maybe not. Maybe I was brought in this world to suffer… watch others succeed right in front of me.

Some people may think I’m going through a midlife crisis by writing this story or some may say “I’ve heard this before”, but before you get to that, hear me out. If I was strong I wouldn’t see the point of writing this story, if I was weak I would have succumbed to depression a long time ago. But somehow I keep waking up everyday… I keep going… Because I told my self no matter how hard it gets, I won’t kill myself. That’s not an option for me because I had a cousin who committed suicide so I can’t put my family through that again.

Before I die, I want at least one person to be able to read this and say “I relate”, if I’m honest, I keep all the painful thoughts and experiences to myself and share the happy ones which are few anyway but it makes me feel good in a weird way like I’ve accomplished something, for people like me a simple “well done” or “I’m proud of you” means the world.

Sometimes I try to pray but, don’t hear me wrong, I have absolutely no doubt that God loves us all but I feel like some more than others. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about because my relationship with him is awkward sometimes because I feel like I can’t communicate with the lord but I’m still hopeful that one day I will.

It’s crazy I’ve never failed a class in my life but somehow when I’m around people I keep my opinions to myself even when someone is talking about something I know, I just agree with them knowing full well that it’s wrong but I do that just to avoid arguments or make the other person feel humiliation. Some people may never understand but that’s just me.

Who am I, what am I, what is my purpose in this life…. I have no idea, maybe it will be like this forever or maybe a miracle will happen so I can at least have something to smile about. I’m grateful everyday for life but it sure ain’t easy.