A Fleeting Moment & A Place to Call Home

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It’s been a while since I’ve posted. I just didn’t feel like sharing my struggles with everyone else, but right now, I have something to say.

I’ve disabled comments because I don’t want any bashing or hateful discussions, especially with such a sensitive topic as this. Please respect my opinions and beliefs, and everyone else’s. We’re all individuals with different beliefs and opinions. I respect yours so please respect mine.

Death and time and how quickly everything passes by has been plaguing my mind for the past almost a month, and it scares me so much. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t lived my life or that there’s so much I want to do and maybe that’s why I’m scared of living.

Maybe I’m just scared of not being able to live a life that I want and having to do things because I have to not because I want to. Like putting up with a job I hate because I need the money even though I can change jobs or staying in a place I despise even though it’s not that difficult to move to another city or country.

I’m scared of not being able to live a life I’m truly proud of, and that it’ll all pass in a blink of an eye because I’m waiting and waiting for that something that never comes, and that it’ll all end in regret. But by then, it’s too late.

I’ve been having a lot of painful nights with puffy eyes and breaking hearts. Of covering my mouth with my hands so I won’t make a noise and wake up my family. Of curling up with my whole body under the covers because the tears won’t stop and even when they do, I can’t fall asleep.

Because I’ve been thinking so much about the future and about everything. About how I don’t want time to move too quickly but at the same time, I want to start my life. I have the rest of my life ahead of me but 80 years isn’t a long time.

Then I’ve been thinking about the afterlife. I know that I’m supposed to believe in a heaven and in a place where there will be no more sadness and tears and bitterness. But there are these fleeting thoughts of what ifs. What if it isn’t real? What if, when we die, our conciousness fades and we fade into nothingness?

And then I thought that maybe, I’m just searching for peace. For the peace that God promises. To accept myself, flaws and all, and to be open. To find a place I can call home, and people I can call my family. To laugh like there’s no tomorrow and to be so happy that my heart is bursting and I’m the verge of tears.

And maybe I’m just searching for genuine love? The love of God, yes, but maybe, also love from the people around me. To stop guarding my heart within steel walls hundreds of metres high and to open that gate and to love without boundaries.

Or maybe I’m just waiting for the home that he promises us all.

I’m scared. I’m tired. I’m tired of being scared. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just reached that stage most of us do in the transition between childhood and adulthood. And maybe once I’ve settled, I’ll be happier.

I’m just tired in a way sleep will never be able to fix.

But I need to hold on to hope. The hope that God gives us in the form of Jesus. The hope that people that are closest to me bring with them when they entered my life. That maybe, one day, this fear will go and that I’ll finally be able to live.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I suppose, I just want time to slow down so that I can appreciate every step of the way. I can’t keep thinking of the future because if I do, the future will steal my present and I’m just left with empty memories and regrets. It’s difficult, but I suppose, one step at a time.