I used to be happy. I lived a good life, with a good family, good grades, friends. I wanted to become something, I still had the motivation at that time, despite my young age, I knew my future. But right now, I’m not even sure if I want a future.

I’m already 20 years old this year, I’m not in college. Hell, I was even told to take a break from school. I really failed to be who I wanted to be in the past. I hate to say it, but I pity my past self. I feel bad for that kid who thought that his world was going to continue to be happy, even if at the time I knew all my problems.

And why did I act oblivious towards it?

I don’t know.

My life was full of a bunch of unfortunate events that I was aware of, yet ignored.

I hate myself for one thing though, well many things actually, but this one probably tops it all. About 11 years ago, I was in a fire. A really bad one for that matter.

I hate myself because I was the one that caused it, the two deaths were because of me. But I can’t do anything now, can I? The damage has been done, what more could happen? Probably a lot.

For some reason, I developed ‘extremely bad’ asthma and anxiety since then. I don’t know which one appeared first, but they’re both equally bad.

I find myself getting anxious over the stupidest things. Or having an asthma attack from the slightest smell of something that irritates my airways.

I got my first inhaler when I was around 9 or 10, is that early? Doctors tried their best to help with my breathing struggles, but I don’t think it did much.

I really did live a good life, with a loving family. I loved them, I really did love them. I thought I would continue to live this life.

But, nothing lasts forever.