I never thought I’d have to seek help myself. To become my own hero.

She looked into my eyes, and I felt as if someone saw me for the first time—not the responsible child, the promising student, or the ideal grandson. I felt like finally someone saw me as a person, without any title or obligations, without all the weight of a powerful last name and even heavier responsibilities.

Time is such a crazy thing, a junction of every second turning into minutes then hours, and finally into a lifetime. More precious than gold, money, or talent. In the end, it all comes down to how long we still have left to live.And it’s never enough. 

I read somewhere there are two deaths, the second overcoming the first. The first happens when the body dies and the other is the last time someone says your name.

What if the endings are just a fresh start? Maybe it just depends on the way you look at it.

I will let the fusions happen; I will be my own star.