016.

I've been thinking a lot about origins lately. 

Especially when it comes to my family. Not a lot is known about my maternal side. However, my paternal side is very traceable. In fact, there are still distant members of that side nesting in the town where that line began. A small port and fishing town on the Mediterranean. Not even on the map for some. 

I've been feeling the pull. The call. The urge. To be there. To visit the land where my family started. To see the faces of those whose blood I carry. To walk along the streets that my great, great grandfather walked before his feet came here. 

Origins. Beginnings. I can't stop thinking of the start. 

Especially names. For I don't believe you exist until you are given a name. My name was thought of during a moment of solace, relief, restoration. My name became because I made it when there was fear that I wouldn't. 

I made it. Even thought there was fear that I wouldn't. 

From the very beginning, I survived. Little did I know, I'd find myself making it, despite the fear that I wouldn't. 

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