I’ve always believed that my presence and everything that I once believed in will vanish as soon as I my days on this earth will end. I thought that I, a mere human being, amongst billions of others couldn’t amount to something worthwhile unless I do something amazing.
However, now, many years later I realized that that is not necessarily true. If only I could thrust my hand into my chest, and wear my heart on my sleeve for all to see. To see the enormity and strength by which it beats; pumping life into my veins. Giving me the power to love, to endure, to smile, to cry, to feel pain and joy and most importantly, to live.
I now know that I am not a footnote in someone else’s story; I am not the scribble on a margin. If life were a novel, I would be the beating heart. So, now I know to never underestimate myself. I am worthwhile, and no matter how insignificant my life might seem, I know that when I leave this world, I would have left an impression that would last an eternity. It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be something; a simple piece of evidence that I have lived my life to the fullest.
