You make a decision when you’re eighteen going on nineteen. You’re stubborn, adamant, and you actually believe that you’re right. You try to find yourself by getting rid of everyone, and you do. You become relatively confident, you grow, you learn, you change. You become more self-assertive, passionate, and different. You’re happy with the person you’ve become and then BOOM, you realize there’s something missing. You feel an immense sense of guilt for the decision you made all those years ago. You know that there’s no turning back and guilt is useless but you decide on something new. You decide to allow changes to happen, to flow freely with whatever winds decide to pick you up and carry you, to stay true to yourself, and to trust in the idea that people come into your life for a reason.
I’m sure you understand that this “You” is Me — I’m the girl with no regrets but the one above. Granted, back then it felt justified, I thought I would never know who I was if I was always with the same people. You are who you hang out with, right? Wrong. You are free to choose who you want to be. I think I was just looking for a fight, a rebel without a cause. How fast the years fly by, how naive and angry and shy was I. And so to right this wrong, my stubborn-mule tendencies have to dissolve. We’re all different people now, we’re grown up strangers, with a shared past, and all the time in the world to get to know each other again.