I'm afraid of getting old, and what's scarier than getting old is not having the chance to get old at all.
From youth to adulthood, from starting a family to hobbling, a complete life, childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, middle age, old age, the long river of time does not give anyone a chance, and we all have to keep moving forward.
I am afraid of getting old just because I haven't finished what I want to do. There are so many regrets in life that I don't know what to do with them.
I want to give my parents a better life, and have been working from that direction. However, the ability is really limited, the struggle of these years did not make their own financial situation better, my parents are still always worrying about me at my age, I feel guilty about them.
I want to make a better life for myself, I want to look effortless. But I can't always lift my spirits, and I don't know why I'm always inexplicably heavy-hearted. Maybe it's a lack of ability, maybe it's a bad mood, but the more I look like this, the more guilt I feel inside.
I want to give my child a better upbringing so that he can not lose at the starting line. The pressure of raising a child is getting greater and greater, and I can carry it, but I feel like I'm getting more and more bent. What I give my child may not be the best, but it is the best I can give.
I want my wife to grow old with me and live a happy life. Life has not been good for a few years of marriage. The bumpy ride through the year and a year, promised a good life do not know where.
I'm afraid of growing old, but I'm even more afraid of not having the chance to grow old at all. I've had some health problems since last year, and I've basically been in the middle of a healing process.
But there are several stages of life that I am still far from. I'm afraid that God won't even give me a chance to step into old age and I might just leave this world in silence.
Life isn't scary when holding hands and growing old with your loved ones. But when one knows that one may not have that chance, the inner trepidation, who can understand?