14 July 2012


In the early morning, whilst the sun begins to break the horizon and the world sparkles in the golden light, chilled by icy frost and winters fog I lie in bed reading.  I read of your night worries, of your family and your love and I feel overwhelmed and confused because you are my hero and my inspiration but I know I am breaking free.  My head fills my days with huge dreams for the future, plans and desires. Sometimes I find myself holding my stomach to imagine what it would be like to have been in your position months ago, or I find myself looking at travel accommodation and flight prices, my dreams and plans locking and taking up space in my head.  But now, lying beside my puppy under the warm sheets, just rising from sleep, I stop.  I'm 17. Not 'almost 18' like I tell people. 17. I am only 17 years young, I am the youth that my hero is losing. And my dreams and plans extend for the next 10 years because I'm so desperate to become something better, to become something accomplished, like her. Why can't I live now, in the present, without a planned out future to distract me?  I should try, because before I realise it, these years will be gone and I would have been so caught up in my plans and desires that I will have missed enjoying them and enjoying the unexpected. 

Although it is hard not to plan summer when the winter days are so miserable....

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