Thoughts

I'd forgotten how to cry for so long, it felt foreign to me. When I finally came upon a small chance to begin, I couldn't seem to contain it anymore. It was so draining--at times, liberating--that I couldn't speak, save for the occasional distorted mumbling. I cried alone (thankfully) in my room for a good half hour. At the end, I didn't recognize the misshapen face staring back at me in the mirror. After months of torment, I could see the wreck I had become.

These later days, I can say, at the very least, that I am a bit better. This being defined as "not utterly miserable" doesn't sound like much, but it's a step forward. One thought still haunts me, however. Watching others and listening to others, I sometimes don't know how I came to be so lucky. Didn't I once sound like and believe in what these others said too? Are they truly better fits, or is it just my mind being clouded by doubt? I hope I find what I'm looking for.

I don't want to settle into mediocrity, into just the normal mold I see around me. I want something more meaningful and valuable. It's a challenge I've yet to fully wrap my head around, but perhaps I just need more time. Time. What a funny, tantalizing, and liberating promise.

I hope you haven't lost faith in me.