to you,

Sometimes I think to the future and wonder what I'd like to do with my life. You said doctor and I say—right now? 

No. I'll never become what you tried to make me.

Sometimes I wonder: would I ever have children of my own?

No. I don't want to.

I know I'm young and everyone can say how my thoughts are bound to change, and maybe they will. But maybe they won't. 

I never want to raise one of my own. I'm too scared. Not because I don't know how to take care of someone who never asked to be born, and not because they would be another one of us that would dig our roots into this earth and try to grow.

I don't want kids because I don't want the chance to learn I don't love them.

I don't want kids because I don't want to be like you.

from,

me

p.s. Everyone has their fears.

p.p.s. I just wish mine wasn't you.