I keep trying to connect to my younger self-
I’ve been reading old journals,
listening to old Ed Sheeran albums-
wondering, “Did I really love this magenta color so much”?

Attempting to feel the way that she did.
Feeling her excitement-
her joy-
her passions.

I have been rediscovering that my past self and I have been through many things. Things that I don’t think about because they are too hard to think about, or simply things that I have forced myself to forget about- like putting my memories on paper and then burning them in a fire.

She was a really sad person.
She struggled.
She was anxious.
She was depressed.
She hated herself.
She had moments of unwavering positivity but there was so much self doubt.

She still is a really sad person.
She still struggles.
She is anxious.
She is depressed.
She hates herself, sadly so.
She still has moments of unwavering positivity but there is still so much self doubt.

I guess some parts of us never change, despite us wanting them too.

While I stood there-
I swore I saw you sitting, waiting too,
but you had long hair (which would be strange, even for you)-
And when you did passes by I realized that it wasn’t you-
But oh-
did I wish it was you.

It’s too early in the night
for an existential crisis-
yet here we are.

This will be the last time that I ever write about you.

I am not afraid to live- for I have lived.
I am not afraid to die- for I have died.
All I can do- when faced with oblivion,
is stand with my arms outstretched-
and fall.