LOSING MYSELF

I confess that I have been lost for a long time.
Everyday resembled the previous one and a feeling of emptiness takes hold, day by day, of my soul.

I confess that I miss so much too many people,
too many moments and too many feelings that are no longer in my life;
and they won't come back, either.

It's not a matter of death or, at least, a physical one.

It's only one of those immutable, plain truths: nothing happens twice.
Seconds, one by one, languish and noone can live them again.

I confess that It results a kind of little miracle for me to wake up and go ahead, to keep my chin up, everyday.

I confess that I have lost my happines, all my motives and, even, the capacity for dreaming
And I'm starting to realize that in that long list of losses,
of things I left on my way, at some time, in any bend,

I lost myself.

And worst of all is I'm starting to think that as well as seconds won't return

... I won't recover that myself I lost...