Long Walk Home...

I never knew what enough was, until I found out that I had to know what is more than enough; even after that I still felt more confused than before I started. Whatever I take, I take too much or too little; I do not take the exact amount.

Before I traveled my road I was my road. The road was new to me and it was a story in the making. All my life it was just me and my dreams; dreaming away my days. Just like the beat of my heart, the days ticked away- until days turn into seconds then into nothing. I wasted a lot of time running after people I could have caught by just standing still. Half of my life I spend reasoning with people. Talking a person out of a position they didn’t reason themselves into. I had wanderlust and stories so vivid and extraordinary in my mind filled with depth and wisdom.

As eggs cannot be unscrambled, I cannot go back in time and fix what needed fixing. Truth be told, would I have fixed what made me; the memories -good and bad- helped me become the woman I am today and I wouldn't be the same person without them. One does what one is; one becomes what one does and I became a long way with past scratches. I mean, what deep wounds ever closed without a scar?