A picture

As I starred at the picture I noticed that the person who had finished last, or who was most likely going to finish last, had been working the hardest and seemed tired. She was looking up at the people who were about to cross the finish line and her face seemed to be longing to be with the other competitors. It was almost like she was looking at the top of a mountain thinking how impossible it looked to climb. Her face told the story of a girl who had worked hard and tried her very best but didn't feel in this moment that it was enough. 

When I turned to look at the others who had finished the race they seemed calm, refreshed, happy. They looked as though they were spectators not racers. As I looked at this picture I realized something. 

That girl was me. 

Then I turned around and left that girl in the picture. I left her exactly where she belonged. In a picture. Not reality.