Confused

What do you do when all you've already done is not enough? I've fought against my biggest fears although they could seem stupid to you, and I've done it for him. But he always wants more, never stopping to appreciate the baby steps it took me to get there.
Now there is only pressure, misunderstandings and some annoying guilt on my chest that I can't get rid of, even though I think I'm right.
It feels bad.
Is it worth it?

In the right mood for sad songs

James won't give up

While I listened to this beautiful song, I just thought this could be the soundtrack to one of the stories I have in mind and, now, a bit in paper as well. The story of a woman who's turned into mermaid, hence her human life is forgotten by her and her lover discovers himself crossing the world from one point to another just to get her back. This song would obviously be sung by him, and it is so pure and lovely...

It's hard for me to believe that this stuff came out of my mind.

The unchosen one

Do you know all those stories where the main character is a child who's supposed to save the world in any kind of way? This child is the chosen one, he/she is special because of some unique cuality that no one else has, and, despite the tough life our hero surely has faced, the good ones always end up winning thanks to his/her bravery.

Do you know these stories?, because now I am about to tell you about the unchosen one.

They already had her. She was the perfect daughter, not only beautiful but also smart, lovely, cute, kind, polite and funny. They had been looking for her for years and finally they got the daughter everyone would've ever wanted. But then...

... then there was me.

She told me years after that she regretted the moment she tried to abort me, that somehow another child would make her -until then, perfect- life fall apart. She never wanted me, and still she received me full of fear and expectation towards what was coming ahead.

I was born with a broken bone –due to the rush of the labour– and a tiny body. When they looked at me, everything they saw was a terribly vulnerable human being, capable of nothing but crying and weaker than most of the newborn children.

They started to love me because I needed protection.

As I grew up, they found out I had some inner beauty. I was not as smart as my sister, but I was clever. I learned how to be polite and my sense of humor was ridiculously hilarious, and though I'd never be able to compete against my sister, I was worth it. At some point, I stopped needing their protection because fighting hard for my own life had made me stronger. I earned their admiration and that is how they started loving me for who I was.

They were not looking for their third child, but he was accepted as my sister was. I was the only unchosen and unwanted one, the one who had to build her own way into her parents' hearts.

I still think about this sometimes. I contributed to my brother being wanted, but they never wanted me until I was born. It feels weird and it makes me feel like I belong somewhere else apart from my siblings. Whereas they both were meant to be, I had to make something no one -not even Harry Potter- had ever had to do: become the hero of my own story.