With longing I remember those moments of uncontrollable laughter that caused me stomach aches. I thought time was running slowly. But the reality is that my childhood ran out of time, and with his departure he dragged loved ones and dreams.
At what point did I stop counting stars, jumping in the rain, swimming in the stream, lying on the field so the wind caressed me, playing ball until my fingers were numb, and writing love letters to that girl who lived in my thoughts? ?
The image I see in the mirror is not that of that child who was full of friends and faith for a God who is in heaven. It is that of a man who substituted the green tea that his mother prepared for him to calm his nerves, with a herb that not only stole his freedom, but condemned him to a world of addictions, without goals and illusions.
When did I stop closing my eyes to make wishes? Say I love you and hug people who live in my heart and memories today. I am a hollow, empty man, the confidence that I had, vanished like drops of water that fall on the arid desert floor.
Why stop being a child? I wonder every day and the agony kills me whenever I see other children who are passing their time and are making the same mistakes that I now regret. Today I know that the most ruthless man in the world, one day he was a child and only he knows when his path strayed.
Why did I stop being a child?
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