You know, I used to believe a lot of things.

I used to believe that if you were a good person, good things would happen to you. Bad things would stay away.

I thought tomorrow was assured. Promises were kept. There's a happy ending at all of this.

Needless to say, I never ever thought that I'd hurt this much.

I didn't know that sometimes the worst thing that can happen is easier to get through than something "small."

I thought there would always be a way. That plans, if you made them, were laws. I thought that nothing could stop me.

I thought if a wall dared pop up in my way, I'd smash it down. I'd be like one of those heroes in books. I'd conquer everything with a slash of a sword or a wave of a wand.

But wall after wall after wall, and now all I can do is look at it, whisper "Oh," and turn around and try to find another path.

It is ever so tiring.

I didn't believe in bad things happening to me.

But that belief, held for years, came crashing down quite suddenly. And it still crumbles in my hand every time I try to grasp it.

I don't know what to do.


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