The old me

I miss who I was before the tragedy happened.

Now finally I could be her again, I’ve wanted to be her again for so long. But now that after over ten years I finally feel comfortable being her again I realize, how beautiful were the years of struggle? I struggled to change my world. Not only the physical world but the realer world made up of peoples ideas and opinions, and in struggling I was different from others, often very mentally isolated. I didn’t see what an heroic act this was. Heroic firstly and lastly to myself.

I’ve wanted to be the old me for so long. The one that didn’t know about the evil of the world and never worried. It’s funny how I thought I wanted it for so long only to realize I don’t anymore. I love who I have been the last decade when no one loved me.

The old me, she was loved. The new me loves herself. And maybe tomorrow I will lose this feeling but for now I am wise and know this is the process of learning how to love. Because you can only learn how to love yourself when it’s not there. Because you can only learn how to do something when you have the opportunity to do it.

Maybe because I love learning, but learning how to be me feels more intimate than simply being me.