On a cold winter morning, I woke up and looked around for the warmth and comfort of my home. But where was I? This place was not familiar, I had never seen this room. My body felt sore and my head was throbbing. I slowly dragged myself out of bed, gripped by panic at being in this unknown place. Was I kidnapped, how long was I here, why did I feel so weak, was I drugged, a thousand questions flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds.
As I slowly made my way to the nearest door I caught a quick glimpse of my face in the window. It was me, but something was different. The light was in the wrong direction, I couldn't see very clearly and I ran towards the door hoping to find a washroom. It was a restroom indeed, a small dingy room with a tiny mirror perched on the wall with a small bath and toilet. As I looked at myself in the mirror I realized I was different, I was older, my hair was gray, I had wrinkles on my face the life had been pulled out of my face. I looked fifty years old, how was that possible ? Didn't I just have the beautiful life with a whole bunch of friends and family, people who loved me and people who cared for me. Where did I lose that life ? How could this have happened to me ? Where did those years from my life vanish ? Why could I remember nothing?
Slowly I walked out of the restroom and dragged myself back to bed. I needed time to come to terms with the facts around me, come to terms with the fact that I had no memories of the last twenty five years of my life. As I laid my head on the pillow I felt my head touch something hard, it was a diary. A diary so thick it held everything I needed to know about my past which I couldn't remember. As I began to read it I realized how I had never appreciated the wonderful life I had, always wanting to be younger, smarter, happier and richer. Good was never good enough for me, I needed better. Slowly things started to make some sense. I was awake from a sleep which finally made me realize how wrong I had been. It was probably too late to make a new start or was it? Could I start again ? I wish I had woken earlier and seen the truth. I don't understand why and how I wasted so many years of my life.
I slowly closed the diary swearing never to open it again. I couldn't undo the past, it was beyond me, the only thing I had left in me was my strength and my determination never to give up. I lied down hoping to make a new start now, without ever looking back at what I did and didn't do. However the nagging feeling remained..... what if I had woken up earlier?
