I’m just thinking about how grateful I am that I am here.

I really don’t know what kind of a person I’d end up to become like if I hadn’t known God.

How much of my life I would have wasted, searching for some reason to be alive.

The mistakes I would have made.

My parents just left for the doctor’s.

And my dad got pretty angry at how stubborn my mom was for not wanting to go to the doctor.

And he asked me to talk some sense into her, something like that.

But anyways, they’re there now.

And I don’t feel worried or anything because there’s always this sense in me that nothing bad could possibly happen to anyone I know.

It’s like this invisible wall of invulnerability.

It’s as if everything was meant to be perfect.

And bad things only happen to everyone else. In the movies. Stories.

Not me.

These things just don’t happen, you know?

But they do.

How can I start to live remembering that life is so fragile to change?

One day could be so different to the next, and yet I’m living as if everyday would last forever.


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