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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Emotional · #2057636
A short auto biographical account of a changed life
I used to think I would be able to live my life the way I wanted. I quickly learned what a mistake that was. I started living my life for other people pretty early on. First I lived the life my mother wanted for me. Then I fell for the father of my first child and lived his vision of what my life would be like. After he was gone I lived what seemed like a life where I made my own decisions, but even those choices seemed to be influenced by those who surrounded me. Then I met who I thought was going to be the last one. The last of a long list of indignities in a life chock-full of them. It was good at first, I felt like I was finally in charge of my life. It was as if I could finally live that life I wanted to live before I lived everyone else's. I could have all those things that were denied to me as a kid. All that love that comes from a two parent home I could finally give to my son. I was definitely living the life or rather a dream. The thing about dreams is that at some point you need to wake up. My dream lasted about eight years. I started to slowly slip away from the illusion I was living. When I was finally snapped out of the stupor it was too late. I was so in love that even though I knew it was falling apart I just couldn't let go. I struggled against the reality of my current life. I just would not surrender to failure. I wouldn't just quit. I would try, I would do my best. I would not let go, but I was holding on to nothing. My hands were empty. All I was holding on to where my fists, clenched, with nothing inside. So now what? What is there left for me? I've never really lived my life on my own terms. I was perfectly content being a marionette and letting someone else pull the strings. I forgot was it was like to move on my own. To be my own person. Now to start all over again. Should I get new strings? Will I even notice if Im being pulled about.
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