Trains

This year, I'm turning twenty. In only a matter of four weeks, I'm going to be twenty. And soon, as they say, everything will change.

I can already feel everything changing.

I used to wait. Waiting and patience had become my best friends for the past years, well, perhaps I did not get along enough with patience, but they had been around--in which loneliness became their own little lovechild that manifested overtime so we became the infamous foursome that gathered almost all the time.

But we grew restless on the train. We were promised a stop would come soon so we could hop off and continue our journey from there--the journey to find our home. These people keep changing tracks, creating false beliefs that safe haven would be just around the corner-- that we will be there, soon. We were given makeshift places that they wanted us to call it as "home". But it wasn't. It isn't. This isn't.

I think, I'm getting off the train. I cannot accept the terms of being with the three other companies in that makeshift home. This is not my life. I can't be happy like this. I can't live like this.