by Saint Fang

Created on: May 14, 2010

I've lost myself.

I remember being here, knowing myself. I remember dreaming. Dreams of never leaving the town I call home, of raising a family. Of happiness. Of blissful monotony. I lived for each day, never wishing to grow old, wanting my world to freeze in time, in perfection.

Then, I lost myself.

I lost myself in a box in the ground full of ash.

I lost myself in a broken-down house filled with dusty childhood memories.

I lost myself in the vote of a city I once loved.

I lost myself in a class where I wasted my precious time trying to fit.

I have sunk to my lowest point. I am no longer here. I have been chased away and am lost. My mind becomes blank, confused. I long for the person I once knew as me to return. I feel as if I have crawled into a corner and curled up to die. My memories of bliss are crushed by new ones of uncertainty, of fear. I search, but in vain. I find nothing but dust.

-

Lost, I have wandered.

Out in the world, I see things more clearly. My mind is filled with new thoughts, ideas, some I never would have had before. For once, I think for myself. I branch out, I explore, I attempt something new.

I have wandered.

Wandered out of the class and into the hall, where new doors open and await me.

Out of the city, my mind awhirl with new places and ideas. Of travel.

Out of the broken-down house into a new one filled with life and love.

Out of the box filled with ash and into the arms of a family I never knew I had.

Out of my past. Into my future.

Into my life.

In becoming lost, I have found myself.

Or maybe, I was never gone.

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