I am alone in a hotel room. Just me and my mind - me and my thoughts.
Me and my confusion.
When it should have been me and you.
You and me.
I am alone; my mirror and I, and I look up to see her. She who knows not what to do with her life, with her self. She, who has dark circles round her eyes. Maybe it's days of work, but it could also be what she has brought upon herself.
She has turned into this person she refuses to accept. And in this refusal, she has learnt to lie not only to others but also to herself. It is a bit hard to swallow, the person she has become; real.
Reality comes with lines around your eyes, and stretchmarks on your thighs. It comes with grey hair and heartbreak. It comes with the realization that you cannot save the world.
Even worse, it comes with the realization that you are capable of hurting others. You are capable of hurting those who love you. (and those who truly care for you)
I look up and decide to look through pictures of my younger self, some from when I thought I had life figured out (seven years ago) - I thought that maybe finally, my life is sorting itself out. But no. It kept doing the same thing over and over again where it pushes me further and further into a place I could no longer recognize.
I am not scared to admit it any longer, in fact, I don't have life figured out. I have no idea where I am heading and the closest thing to a plan I have is this: to start saving, to write a business plan and to stop lying to myself. But I don't know where I want to be in two years, let alone five. What I know is that I feel young, that I won't let anything weigh me down, and that is all that counts at times.