I wanted to be an engineer.
I swear, i wanted to.
After High School i left my small city and went in the capital of my country to study Engineering.
I struggled a bit but i thought that becoming an engineer, having a purpose, was something to be proud of.
On August 17th 2017 i was walking on “La Rambla” in Barcelona.
If it wasn't for my girlfriend that dragged me in to a shop to get some churros mere seconds before the attack, i would be dead.
I struggled years with PTSD and remorse.
In 2021 I finished my Engineering course.
But i wasn't the same.
That experience changed me, that day a 23 Years old italian guy died.
23 Years old.
It was an Engineer.
God, it could have been me.
I promised to my self to never end behind a desk pushing buttons till the grave.
But here i am.
I ended up working in a factory as an engineer.
Pushing buttons and moving papers.
I like my coworkers, they are all nice.
But every time i show up at work i always think about that day.
I think about the fragility of my life and the fact that everyday this gift, my time, my time on this Earth, is slipping away from my fingers.
I feel bad.
Sometimes i wonder if this is what i will do with my life or if there will be something more.
I feel like i've betrayed that younger me.