There are moments in life when the weight of reality feels heavier than ever. For a long time, I didn’t think much about how long I had in this world. It didn’t matter to me. But now, just as I began to hope for a long and fulfilled life, things have taken a different turn—and it hurts.
I find myself battling with my own thoughts, ashamed that I let things get so bad. I know I’ve caused pain to my family, and the one thing I always wished was that they would never have to bury me. That thought alone feels like the worst punishment I could give them. And yet, facing the possibility of it, I realize I need to live better—not just survive. I want to take care of my health, to be stronger, and to leave behind good memories for the people I love most.
I don’t know if my family will ever read these words, but if you do, I want you to know something: I love you. Even if I don’t say it often, even if harsh words have been exchanged, my love for you has never changed. I have always felt your love, even in moments of loneliness. Despite the walls I built around myself, I knew you were there, waiting for me.
If I leave this world before you, I am deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused. If I could start my life over again with you, I would. But I am not ungrateful—I’ve had a better life than many, and a longer one than most.
From here on, I want to take things one day at a time. To be better than I was yesterday—in my faith, in my family, and in my dreams.
