Five years.

Today, five years ago, I graduated from my master's program. I thought it was worth it---the going to bed late, getting up early, losing myself in the process. Lack of sex, coupled with lack of sleep and 10 extra kilos.
Missing friends, losing friends and family members. Finding friends and a new way to see life. Finding a new city and making up the visions of the old one inside my mind, only to destroy them the minute I found the city again waiting for me.

But now I wonder if it was worth it. Granted, I've been able to sleep in people's couches and see the world and have experiences I never even dreamed possible or even remotely happening to me if I had never done such a program. Then again, I'm still stuck in the same city I sometimes love and hate without boundaries.

I still live with my parents, and I've been taking care of my mother almost since the moment I got back. I've lost opportunities because I feel guilty if I leave them on their own or I if choose to walk away from what gave me what I have, so that I can try to find a path of my own. But three years ago, I became a mother to a pretty four legged creature-she completes me. Fleas and all. So sometimes, I don't feel so alone.

Then two years ago, I lost the ability to walk for almost a year. This made me grow up more than I ever could, and realize that there is nothing set in stone. No friends will always be there for you, and no love is strong enough: I therefore became more of myself than ever before, because I had no choice. When I lost my legs and their function, they became a fetish to me---no longer usable, I longed for them day and night. They were the only part of my body that really mattered: my sexuality became meaningless to me as I had nobody to share it with, and no-body to channel it through. Today, it still is, save for those moments in which I want to lose control over myself and there isn't anyone available to give me a hand. Pun intended.

I've traveled the world, but I would give the world to find a life: one that I could use well, even if it meant not seeing the world for a while. To have a life, so that I may know what to do with it. To find a job, a house to make a home. Someone to come home to, and to forget about the world around me. That's all I want, and I need to find a way to get there.

Sometimes, five years can mean so little. For me, they just meant that I have to start all over.