I hold on to the simplest things in my life: the ice skating ticket with my first love, the boarding pass for my last flight home because I was moving back for good, the type of pen I use when I write in my diary, and my bracelet previous hospital stay for dengue. Somehow a part of me was afraid that if I had no memory of these things, it has never happened.
I am too sentimental for my good, too sensitive to ignore what I read in between the lines, and too nostalgic for people and feelings that have passed. If I could tuck all these feelings into boxes and revisit them, I would. At least I know where they are and it would be up to me to decide when I want to feel these feelings.
I hold on to personal rituals and stay loyal to rules that I made up for myself like I must write my diary with that pen. Nothing would change if I changed the pen but somehow, changing anything would feel like I am betraying the girl that needed to write because there was no one else. I am slowly asking myself for permission to change things up so that I can write better.
I feel so much better than when I was 20. I can say I feel happier but I still sometimes miss trying to figure things out by writing. There's very little to write about when you are sure about something. You don't have paradoxes or contradictions. Can't turn facts into poems cause they are boring.
I feel changed and I feel myself embracing the new more. Maybe I'll develop a new way to write. I haven't figured it out yet. My current struggle and challenges are that I need to recreate the safe space that my 17-year-old was very good at doing.
Like my therapist said, I am no longer in danger and I don't need to have that instinct to keep myself safe and be on high alert. So, that's just something entirely new to me since being on high alert is the only thing I know for the past decade.
I'm excited for the change. I think I'll be okay. I wanted this piece to be a bit more sad but frankly, I don't feel as sad and it's different. Guess we will find out.
