To the ones who grew up earlier

To the ones who grew up earlier

A part of my being always hurts for the ones who were always deemed to be too mature and too deep for their age. Home is often associated with our comfort zone, the abode that stalls our dejected sighs and embraces our dreams to fly high. But more often than not home is a place where a lot of us wish to escape from, to a place where peace embosoms the frantic cry of our chaotic wails and where the heart blooms and does not turn pale.

Childhood is the golden phase of our lives, that fosters memories that kindle the peonies of hope and illuminate our existence with eternal joy. My heart aches for the souls who had to grow up too fast, to protect themselves, to be the guiding lights for their younger siblings. The ones who faced an immortal loss for their loved ones, the ones whose childhood gave them traumatic moments instead of abundant laughter. They know pain to its depths and protect their loved ones with ferocity and fearlessness. It is often the ones who are the most hurt are the finest souls who gulp the darkness that was offered to them so they don't become the person who shattered them and their world.

The ones who survived the darkest parts that life plonked them into and yet chose to live with a smile on their exterior are more than often not given the love and appreciation they deserve. To forge their light and to draw onto their existence with warmth and simplicity, the survivors of the doom that tried to break them are accolades of strength. The ones who are deserving of the love the most are often the ones who hide their pain behind closed doors and believe that they have to fight for the love they receive. But the truth is you deserve to be loved the way you are, only by existing.

To the ones whose life in the cold of maturity brewed,

Please remember you are deserving of love too.