Half of me is me.

The other half of me is still me but in my absence.

I’m still in the same place but at a different time.

Because half of my life was the part where the words were not spoken.

The smiles were delayed.

The friendship that was once was the part I didn’t know about.

It was the shadow I touched but didn’t feel.

The work I participated in and still not participating in it.

Participating in and still absent at the same time.

All these made me a stranger to those around me, and strangers to me.

My half, simply put, my moment of incapacity.

Some time ago I went on another road but in the middle of it, I stopped. The road didn’t take me anywhere.

I had an idea and halfway through it was interrupted, the fruits were not picked.

I only half dreamed of a dream.

Bringing the two halves together, I try to form a whole.

To live the present.

For in this whole to find around life.

Not half a life.

And not the half that hangs somewhere in my past.