“What means most to me?” Well, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t the slightest idea. Most people in my age, whether they would admit it in general or not, are still trying to figure it out themselves. And, maybe it’s because it is less about what means to me and more about who means to me the most.
Because I can tell you this:
What means to me the most, is the pride and love in my dad’s eyes, the care and joy from my brother’s words and to be my mom’s support and ears to listen. What means to me the most is my best friend’s happiness and laughter; to be the courage to the love of my life and the insight to his family.
There cannot be a day in my life, where I wake up to see my dad smiling at me; holding my hand still to keep me safe and support me through all those tough times, even if he had to face it all alone like a pillar to both me and my brother’s lives. Those unforgettable wonderful days I shared with my little brother talking about movies and games, though we didn’t have any likes in common.
He was always the silent kind, less expressive; but each moment we spent together kept him happier and surely left a mark enough to miss me during the rest of the days. Slurely, he would never ever admit it. There has never been a day I ever missed my mom screaming out my name every morning just to wake me up. She is a strong woman with a very soft heart. She talks to the walls and other things around because she thinks there is never anyone one to listen to her; but I always have my ears all open, listening.
To see both of my best friends grow stronger and smarter, yet softer, I like to be their guide to motivate; be the one who snatch them from this tough world to an adventurous trip and cheer them up. Keep them focused and always be there for them even through thick and thin.
What means to me the most is to be there for my love. Be the strength of his weakness, the only partner to his life, bravery to all his fears, aid to his spirit and tears to his sorrows. Being able to be the mother, the friend, the colleague, the lover and the daughter to him, will always let him be himself with me; without letting any shades of darkness between us. Finally, to be a part of his family, where I will be welcomed with immense love and be able to maintain a wonderful relationship that could only get stronger by time.
All those things together is WHAT means to me the most; or the ones WHO means to me the most. And anything else beyond that, well, I might have to wait. What if I get to be somewhere more to figure those out.
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Mark K. Stafford is an American English writer. He was born in Los Angeles and earned a BA from the University of California. He is a passionate author who wrote on Essays, Poetry, and Journalism. Now he writes full-time books and articles for TheWordyBoy.