Underneath the Sycamore Tree

by B. Celeste

Staying in the past means halting the future. I may not get one, so I want to at least try making the most of the present.

For once, I just want someone to feel the pain I do so maybe then they’ll truly understand.

Nobody will get a chance to.

People like him will never be as strong as people like us. They get a choice in how to feel, live, and think. We never will. We’re forced to fight. And sometimes…we don’t want to.

The truth is you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.

When you tear up, you’re simply unsure. When you cry, you know.

It all makes sense. My lack of friends. My unwillingness to settle down, to find a promising career path, to dream. I never wanted to date—to make time for people in my life. I make thousands of excuses that hold me back from truly living, and the final puzzle piece reveals the reason why. I’m not meant to.

“We got a year, Daddy.” “It’s not enough.”