That One Time

My childhood was no different than any other. I used to balance the light switch between on and off, I used to slowly close the fridge to see the lights turn off, I remember that I believe that books pretended to be full of fairy tales, that they were, in fact, real stories lying down somewhere in the world waiting to be found; aside that, I also remember trying to count stars, which was tiring because they were so many.

But that was then. Then, I was innocent; I didn't know the world as I'd always live on my own. I didn't have to worry about anything except cracks on the floor, or falling into the "lava". The least of my worries was how my life would turn out but that was then, when everything seemed to fit in perfectly.

Perfectly as if the puzzle was already finished, when in reality it was just the beginning. When everything looked fine when it wasn't, when no matter what I did nothing would be entirely wrong, where everything seemed dreamy. The time when I was so full of happiness.

But all of the sudden I grew up. I had to worry about my future because I was soon to be graduating, I felt lost and unsatisfied with who I was. I remember getting angry at myself for pretending to be happy when I clearly wasn't. Remembering how happy I was then, when I was ten, compared to how happy I was at the moment. I was mad at myself because I couldn't be as happy as I was once before turning sixteen.

I turned fifteen and the crystal box began to shatter but I chose to ignore it and go on with my life normally. That was until I turned sixteen, the box shattered into a million pieces. All of them one by one hurting me, making my eyes widened in realization that real life was right before my eyes, making me snap from my dreams, forcing me to meet with reality

I refused to grow up and reality caught up to me. I tried to ignore the hints and reality forced them on me. I began to panic when I met up with reality, whose smirk told me my life had just truly begun.

Everything was going my way when I turned seventeen. I was slowly escaping reality. But she caught me in the act and had me come back in the roughest way you'd ever think. It hurt, I didn't want to go on with real life but it forced me to live it by saying "Dreams are nothing but dreams, if you wish to go on dreaming when I come back don't expect me to go easy on you. Why dream of the reality you want, when you can make the reality you've dreamed… something real."

Then I realized stars are infinite just like our dreams with the difference that our dreams can become reality if we try it, whilst stars will remain infinite for no one will try and count them.

If I learned something from then, it was that dreams will lead you nowhere if you don't make them happen. What's the point of dreaming if you can't live it?

I hope ya'll liked it! I know it's kind of confusing and there's no order but that's how it is. Let me know if you liked it Review! and yeah I know it's sad most of what I write is. I, however, promise that I'll write, at some point, a happy fiction... I'm already working on it.

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