There was a time when I would look into the mirror, and see my own self staring back at me.
I would admire his ambitions, bubbling with energy through his eyes. His dreams that were sky high. And his longing to call some place his own. To feel at home.
Much time has passed, and today when I look into the mirror, I still see my own self staring back at me. But he appears nothing like the one I used to remember. Like my oldself.
The world has changed him. Moulded him. Creased him.
I now have to imagine a lot of things when I look at him. But even that, I can only do for so long. The reflection I once remembered appears to be a thing from the long past. That is gradually drifting away. Fading away.
I take a good look at what I have become, and knowing that things cannot be the way they used to, I do something that I always had difficulty doing.
I move on.
I try not to look back often. As I move into the fray.
In the hope to find some place where I feel at ease. A place I can call home. My home...