Stopping is for losers

There were the emo days for me, nothing was going right. I had issues in school, didn't like what I was studying, problems at home with what was left of my family. So many sleepless nights, so many thoughts, so much despair and hopelessness, and the never ending urge to meet my creator.

But then came work, dance and good friends. They offered me an escape from all the troubles at home and more importantly, offered me an escape from loneliness and thought. Gave me something to laugh about, something to kill fifteen hours of the day with and gave me hope that I was worth something, even if we were practicing for a final piece of 5 minutes.

I used to go by "Love - Dance - Live". It meant loving what you had and did, dancing away the pain and the hours, living because you can and having fun while doing it. There came a day I accepted everything that had happened to me and decided that it's not going to stop me.

I threw away my blade, that which I had carefully kept hidden in my phone all those years, found a well paying job and finally, visited my Dad's grave. I don't remember much of that day, but it wasn't as emotional as I expected because, I had accepted my fate, killed my insecurities and stepped up to keeping what was left of my family together.

On that very spot where a few years, I stood as a boy, crumbling under the weight of that coffin, I stood now a man, having weathered the storm of despair and adolescent emotion, steadfast on moving forward, my eyes to the sky in gratitude for the shit I had been through.

Today I sit at a point where I can say I've been to hell and back, lived the ups and the downs. And I don't want to stop, come whatever may!