I think a part of me have died. Is dying. Will die.
I think it happens to all of us. We're all living different lives,
but every breath we inhale and exhale again brings us closer to the same ending. Death.
That is our shared, final destination. Nevertheless, this other individual death happens through all of our life.
Someday we just realize that we are not the same person as we used to be; as we were just yesterday.

Think back a year. Who were you there?
Not the same as you find yourself to be today, I am sure.
Our naivety, our innocence on this world dies.
For every day passing by.
When one stops, dead-end in his or hers track to wonder about this,
this phenomenon,
they will always be looking for a cause,
a beginning.

For me?
It all began almost 8 years ago. And 5. And 4 years ago.
I bet it seems odd.
You cannot have 3 beginnings to your death?
You can have all the beginnings you want,
because it is a different piece of you, of your mind, every time.
The You who is dying, is sacrificing itself
so the newborn You can live.

An improved You,
more knowledgeable, graceful, stronger.
Yet flawed, since stronger in this case means colder and more calculating. Tougher. Closed.
Yet with the face of a newborn, ready to explore the world.
With a fragile mind and a fragile heart.