We're never ready. #Steemletters - (Letter 4)

in #story8 years ago


We're never ready.

I was always asking myself when I would be ready for certain things. To leave the house, to get a job, to gain my independence and also when I would be ready to love. Many questions, I know, but with the same answer to all: we are not ready and will never be ready. And we assume this character because it is extremely difficult to look at yourself and say "now is the time." 

Life just happens without saying when it will happen.

I remember as it was extremely difficult to leave the house of my mother. I was not living alone, but I had to put aside everything I knew and understood how to face the new routine. I went to my father's house. I get to live with someone who saw me a few times. Many, of course, but had never shared living room, kitchen and living so intensely with me. And it was hard.

From a simple decision, some others began to happen. That nuisance for not paying my own bills begins to appear, the need for some more money, someone nice, loyal friends and the refinement of the relationship as a whole. I think we know each other and understand (once!) That quality is much better than quantity. I need not have much, but I really want all that I can have.

Embrace to not drop.

I also believe that is part of all this gear learn that not everything is in our hands. That happiness, even if it is our responsibility, will escape through your fingers a few times, just to show us that we need to live it intensely whenever you're around. And besides all this, be able to administer the fear of having to face the new. We're never ready, but the fear seems to be already prepared to take it by storm.

Until one day, you look at yourself and realize you have done a lot. Who left home, got a job, survives with dignity and fighting for our dreams even if simple. Until you realize that what you had fear has become something banal; fear only spurred the trajectory. Until idea of "day build" turns into "I'm already building." Until you see that never really was ready, but that gamble and living was the only option.

Life is worth for those who surrender to it.

 For some of you who already follow me for some time I would like to say about the idea of posts using the new tag, #steemletters, and make small texts in forms of shortstories and chronicles. I had this idea to adapt the little time left in the day to write and post something. So I hope all of you enjoy.  




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Muy lindo lo que has publicado, me izo recordar muchas cosas, yo me fui de la casa de mis padres a los 14 años, cunado era tan solo un niño, se de lo que habla. Muchas gracias por recrear mi mente

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