Till it's my birthday.
It's hard to imagine that I've made it this far.
A couple days ago I was cleaning out and reorganizing the things I had in my room and while I was at it I found old writing and photos from my past.
Found an old break up note that my girlfriend at the time gave me
Found some old notes that my suicidal friend wrote me
Found a lot stuff that I had been given by people throughout the years
Found photos of my childhood
Found some old poems
Found some old journal entries
Found quite a bit.
Going through all these things that day,
My heart began to hurt again
And my eyes watered
Despite making it this far it still causes me pain knowing I had so many things in my past that were going good but somehow managed to crumble in my hands.
The scars still run deep and new wounds are constantly opening
Reflecting on it all it feels like I did more for people back then than I do now.
Which is why this year, my senior year, I'm going to do as much as I can to make a difference.
If I'm going to live, I'm living with a purpose, not waiting here for one.
-Rafael
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