That girl

If anyone ever approached me with the unexpected question : ” What would you like to be ? ” I would answer with absolute no hesitation that I’d love to be me – in the old days ,the naive girl with that shining smile, the girl with that fearless characteristic I could never find in myself now; the girl who possessed absolute belief that one day she would subdue the world with her majestically embellished ship, travelling through every mystic ocean and set her foot on all hidden islands. That girl lived her life with no jealousy ; she enjoyed being herself , yet resented shyness and loneliness as well; she loved climbing trees and discovering new lands;she fought with those whom she claimed to be gangsters , and once in a blue moon she even cried in her utmost voice. That girl, I remembered ,was like the captain of her life ,depending on no one to gain alacrity or freedom . The scent of complacency occupied no space in her heart, in which existed the permanent fire of hope, love and dream.

How long ago since the last time I saw her smile ? Ten years , one hundred years , or one billion years ? I don’t know. Out of a sudden , She disappeared , leaving me behind with fear and bewilderment. She’d gone , bringing with her my childhood away. She propelled me to obliviously take a step forward into my adulthood , until I acquired recognition of her absence , I’d traveled too far to even look back.

They said that everything would change eventually , no matter how painstakingly you work to cling to the presence.That girl, she took into consideration none of what they indicated to be universally acknowledged ,but me , I believed and obeyed unquestioningly with their statement. 

“Why ?” She asked….

“Fear and obsession ” I answered…..

Have you ever heard the tale of the butterfly dream ? That girl , she dreamed to become the most beautiful butterfly, to stay anomalous ,and above all, to spread her wings as wide as possible so that people could admire her exquisite patterns. She wished to stretch her fingers to catch all the bruises, pain ,and sorrow ,in the meantime , hoping that happiness would arrive one day. In contrast , the butterfly I prayed to be should be grey ,whereby I could easily find myself a secret shelter to hide away from imagined danger.

One may ask :” Do I feel desperate ,resenting her for being so overwhelming and compelling over my desire for solitude ?” Then one should keep in my : ” Why should I ?” Gratitude, in fact , would be an understatement for my feeling towards her. When I fell , She pulled me up , encouraging me to stay hardcore on that journey searching for miracle. When I kept my eyes close to be ensured that the world out there wouldn’t turn my shelter into that stormy sea where my pitiful boat was shaking because of endless wind and fearful tides, she told me to stick my tongue out and try to taste that precious sweetness of this incredible world, to undergo that bitterness of failure,and I would be able to catch that very image of how this life could embrace my soul.

“Dear” She whispered “sing your own song,dance your own style and live your own spirit ! That girl in the mirror deserves to be set free ….”

And now she’s gone, instead nightmares and persecution take control of every of my empty night. And there in that dark corner laid the nebulous vestige of her smile ……


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