Hello little one,

Look at you. Beautifull, and so small.
Full off every little thing in this big world. Every flower, fluffy cloud and bug came to your attention.
You we're sweet, and quiet. Never bothered anyone, never cried. Because big girls don't cry they said. Be good and play with some toys.
So you did. You did good in school, had one or two good friends. Ten years later you won't remember a thing. Because you only saw those beautifull birds flying trough the sky and dancing together between the clouds. And that cute old man on the bike, feeding the ducks every monday at 11. You could see him right out the window from the spot you were sitting in class.
As you became older, you learned it would be better if you sat back in the classroom. So no one would ask you something. And you had te room to dream. Oh and how you dreamed.
You turned sixteen and fell in love. A boy who didn't take his time to get to know the real you and had tot much fun on his own. By the time you realised that, you turned eighteen. It's okay honey. We all experience that once in a lifetime. Although again, you didn't cry.
People pass away. That happened to you too. You didn't show much emotion though, instead you carried the sadness of everyone else in your family. You shouldn't, but your kind heart did. You cried in bed, in the dark. And woke up 'okay' in the morning.
You felt alone. You felt ugly. Why? Because nobody told you otherwise. I understand now that I shoul've told you. You could've told you yourself. You just didn't know how. So you studied, hard. And worked, even harder. You didn't have to. It's okay. Try to enjoy the little things, before you get old way too soon and you have no choice but to work all day. Then you turned twenty. You stopped. And listened.

I look around. What is it that I want in life? What have I been missing out? What is my purpose in life?

For the first time in life, I stop. I actually breath. I listen. And you know what the scariest part is?

I feel.