Unfold.

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Time.

Time is the only thing that keep us tied with the thin thread we call life.

Time is running out of our hands like sand and we are fighting to hold on to the grain that mockingly vanishes from our hands. The pains, suffering, happiness is only the tattoo we have to live with.

We design the tattoo and it represents us. It reflects us and we amend it on every step of our present.

Time is the only thing that has bought me in this situation, where I am laying in the arms of the person I am falling in love with a child bouncing on the floor.

To consume time in it best way is the only thing we are left with, the consequences are all solved with time, wounds heal and help us form he hard core that will protect us until we are completely healed and admiring ourselves, even if we have to live with the scars.

I smiled when Alex got us on his feet, with the help of table, and shrieked at his accomplishment.

My baby has grown up so fast in a little span of time and it left me frowning.

It doesn’t matter how tall and healthy my little bud sprouts, he will always be my little boy whom I love.

Alex has been there when I was feeling betrayed and cheated, he was there when I was happy enough to explode, even he has only been the part of my life for a short period of time, it feels like he was there my whole life, like I was meant to consume him for healing in the best way.

I cannot even imagine what my life will be if he was not there. I can feel the chills that ran down my spine just thinking about it. His little body was my rock and I want to be the person he relays upon.

I am not afraid to say that I am selfish for his love and attention. I love him so much.

I cannot really begin to think why my mom left me without even a backwards glance.

How could she abandon me for eighteen years and not even think about me.

She left me like I was unwanted flesh and I cannot put the pieces together to get the reason why she left me.

So with the determination to ask to the main source why she left me I messaged the number that was on the end of the letter, letting her know the time when I will be there to meet her.

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“Be good.” Were Xavier’s words that were crossing my mind as I was in the elevator, on my way to meet my mother.

I felt the butterfly fly in my belly and I gazed the neon green number that were telling me the floor number.

I blamed gravity for those butterflies and the stupid classical song for my irritation.

Seriously, who lived in this crappie building?

 Okay so I was being a little unfair to be honest.

This building was what you call it?

Totally classy.

Yeah I went bimbo there, but back to the point, in short it was good enough for me to feel sorry for my apartment building.

The ‘ping’ of the elevator bought my attention to the matter.

I took a deep breath and made my way outside the elevator and in the hallway that had two apartments.

At this point I was rethinking wearing my black skinny jeans, checkered shirts with my trusty Taylor chucks.

I sighed and put my ‘I don’t care’ face and pressed the bell’s button. A faint ‘zing’ was heard and I waited patiently.

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