In Life…

Change is constant.

We were at Manila then, having enjoyed a whole day in an arcade and amusement park. I was four or maybe five years old. I could not tell.

My mother was holding my left hand while my other hand was holding onto a string that was connected to a balloon. I can not remember its color but I can remember how it felt.

I was happy then, tired but contented. Happiness bubbling inside me.

We were walking outside and stopped to wait for the traffic light to turn red so that we can cross the street. As we were waiting, my father picked me up and carried me on his arms. I was caught unprepared and my hold on the balloon loosens, leaving it free to escape from my grasp. I tugged at my father’s collar, pointing to the balloon, asking him to get it it was too late, the wind has blown my balloon far away from us.

I feel oddly bereft, wondering, as I watched my balloon flew away, towards the top of a high building. I wanted to get it back.

But it was helpless, I can not get it back.

It was lost.

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This is my first story posted here. This will be based on my personal experiences and life's insights. It might not be written in order. This is my life's story. I would be posting here every now and then whenever I feel like it. I made this so I can get things out of my chest. Wahahaha!