At 32, Adam sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, staring at the city lights through his window. The world outside never stopped moving, never stopped changing. But tonight, for the first time in a long while, he let his mind drift back to the past—to a time when life was simple, when happiness was easy, and when the world felt safe.
As a child, money was nothing but colored paper that could buy candy or a new toy. He never thought about it, never worried about it. But now, money ruled everything. He had seen people lie, cheat, and even destroy others just to get more of it. It was no longer just paper; it was power, control, and sometimes, even death. The innocence of not caring about it was gone. Now, it dictated every choice he made.
Trust was another thing that had changed. Back then, he trusted without question. A friend was a friend, a promise was a promise. There was no need to second-guess, no reason to doubt. But now? Now, trust was a luxury. He had been lied to, used, and betrayed so many times that trusting someone felt like walking into a trap. He had built walls around himself, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.
Relationships had once been pure. As a child, he had friends simply because they enjoyed each other's company. There was no hidden agenda, no unspoken expectation. But now, everything felt like a transaction. People didn’t love without a reason. There was always something to gain, always a benefit to be had. The kind of friendships he once knew—the ones that were based on nothing but laughter and shared moments—felt like a distant dream.
Back then, the world felt safe. He had never worried about betrayal, never imagined that people could smile to his face while stabbing him in the back. A person was exactly who they appeared to be—no masks, no hidden sides. Now, he had to question every smile, doubt every word. He had learned the hard way that not everyone was as they seemed.
Everything in the past had this pleasure of exploration and the enthusiasm of doing something for the first time. Whether it was riding a bike, climbing a tree, or discovering a new place, each experience felt fresh, exciting, and full of wonder. Now, everything had become just routine and repetitive. The thrill of the unknown had faded, replaced by the dull predictability of daily life. What was once an adventure had turned into an obligation.
He leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. He wished—more than anything—that he could go back. Just for a day. To feel that pure joy again. To wake up without the weight of the world on his shoulders. To trust, to laugh, to love without fear. But life didn’t work that way. Time moved forward, not backward.
His heart, once pure and spotless, was now cracked and wrecked. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. But even in all this, he held onto one small hope—that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to bring a piece of that innocence back. Not by changing the world, but by changing how he saw it. And maybe, in doing so, he could feel a little less lost.