a good life

Have I lived a good life? That’s almost an incomprehensible question. I don’t know how to measure a good life. Is a good life measured by accomplishments? What we give and what we take? Is it measured by religion? Love? Popularity? How many people we have or haven’t hurt? Inspired? Touched? Is a life with 3 kids and a minivan better lived than one that is alone working part time at 7 11? I don’t like the thought of my life being worth dying for. I don’t like the thought of one life being more valuable than another. Loving someone so much you would die for them, yes, I believe that is justified, but I don’t want to compare worthiness in life, I don’t want to prove that I’ve earned the right to be here over anybody else. I have a nice house with a nice bedroom and nice furniture – and I’m messy, I make my pretty little room look like a dump. I have a proper education system and financial opportunities to go to college, to go to university, yet I don’t put forth the effort to get the grades I need. I am lucky enough to have a large family that loves and supports me when there are people out there with no one, yet I still go out and mess up, make bad choices, let them down. And I am well aware that there are people that would kill to be in my position, so maybe in some eyes, I have taken life for granted, I haven’t lived a standard good life. But let me tell you this, I have loved with all I had, I have lived for the moment, I have fallen down and I have got back up, I have been a crying shoulder and a support beam, I’ve listened when I needed to and I’ve had the time of my life. I am 17 years old and I have a lot to learn, but if I were to die tomorrow, I would die being satisfied with the life I’ve lived, I would die without any regrets, so in my eyes, that is a good life.