Legacy

Sometimes, I look back.

Not to dwell. Not to hyper-fixate.

No. No that.

But to reflect.

To observe who I was. Who I was destined to be.

The legacy I was “destined” to leave.

And I smile. I cry. I mourn. I rejoice.

In the peace I’ve found.

In the fear of what could’ve been.

And I breathe.

…

I didn’t know how to do that not too long ago.

I know who I am.

I know who I serve.

I know the life I was building.

And I know the one I now live and breathe in.

A world that was born out of the passion. Out of the fire. Out of the shattered remains…

Of a dark and doomed structure built on sand.

That needed to be smashed, torn down, and burned till nothing but its ashes remained.

Built on trauma. On bitterness. On my lust. On my compulsions.

A fresh start. A new beginning. And 1253 days later, I stand… And I fall to my knees.

In a posture of thankfulness for this dream, I fought to make reality.

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