I feel like I'm running out of time. I'm not sure what the time that escapes me would be for. I just know that it's running out. I'm so behind the, proverbial, 8 ball. It took so long for me to get up on my feet (literally) that I lost so much time. Time to become ... I missed the years it takes to grow into yourself. So here I am, at 30 playing "catch up." I looking for a career, discovering who my friends are, and learning who I am. I'm doing all this while trying to forgive and let go of the people and moments that have harmed me.
The scars I bare ar on my psyche, as well as my body. For years the physical scars defined me. It was all I felt I had that allowed me to stand out. Many of my emotional scars are a direct reflection of the one on my body. They mirror each other, and I'm just now, learning not to look to that mirror to see a reflection of myself.
So here I am ... 30 and free. I'm seeking the things that I was not able to seek before. And slowly, I'm earning them. One small discovery at a time. I stopped looking for the perfect life, because I don't have enough time to catch that all and once. I'm seeking the perfect moment.
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