The Things I Carry
I carry along with me the things from my past. The guilt of never taking the initiative to become someone I’ve always wanted to be. I can’t say I’m not happy with my life, but I could have been elsewhere by now. I graduated in 2008 and recently started my first semester of college. Every morning that I walk into my class I carry that gut wrenching feeling that I won’t reach my potential. I look around at all the faces of every student and don’t see what I see in mine. Fear. My eyes say it all. It’s hard for me to hide my emotions. Even when I want to.
Today I still carry the words left unsaid. The things I never got to say to my cousin before he left this world. The last time I saw him on his hospital bed, I felt he tried to tell me something with his eyes. I carry the memory of that tear that streamed down his cheek when he saw me. He was eleven. He gave me something that I don’t think I ever had. Faith. Although his heart could bear no more, he still lives within my heart. I carry the fear of breaking my promise to him. I promised to become a better person. For me, for him, for my family. It’s still hard to accept that he’s not with us anymore. It’s been four years and yet the wound is still open. This wound that I carry will eventually close up. I will carry this wound every step I take to accomplish everything he couldn’t.
