I found this on my old blog. This may be over a year ago but I love going back to blog entries I have written because it helps me know more about myself — how and why I am like this, how I think, how I build my dreams now. It also helps me learn things over and over again just to make sure I really did learn those things. Haha! Here it goes…
I never knew that she walked out on me until recently I find myself looking for her. I keep on finding her every other time because somehow and somewhere in my mind, part of me knew she existed. It wasn’t a dream. There goes flashbacks right in front of me. Scenes so vague and beautiful, so light and cheerful, contented and no longingness for something. I know her and I know she was there, she existed.
Have you ever had that feeling of being lost? I think I lost myself more than three years now. This is not the typical story of being lost – finding yourself, what you really want, etc. Not that one. I’m considering that maybe I didn’t lose myself. Probably, forgotten was the better word for that. Yes, forgotten.
I forgot who I am. I forgot what it is like to be me. I saw my plurk account yesterday. It was so random. I have nothing to do. So I searched for my older accounts. I saw my old blogs, my friendster, my myspace, my multiply. I was totally different, I think? From my old blogs, the way I think and see things – it was almost the same now but somehow I am sure I am wiser. Maybe it was with HOW I deal with stuff. How I am a happy-go-lucky-thankful-blessed-fun girl who talks to anyone and friends with everyone. Everything was real and true. Everything was light. Myself, my environment, the people around me, the responsibilities and work I am taking. Somehow, I missed that girl in me. I don’t know where did she go. I think I lost her.
Maybe because I lost myself in giving everything to the ones important to me, to the one I love, to her specifically. That when you love, you have given everything you can give and everything that you can’t. It is when I realized that I had lived her life in her world and not mine. It is when I made friends with her friends and not find my own sets of friends. It was when I pressured myself to dream her dream and not mine. I tried to fit myself when I shouldn’t even tried in the first place. It was then I forgot who I was. And that was too much. I didn’t even realize it until the day I was left alone.
I miss her – that girl who used to be me. I don’t know where to start but I want her back so badly. I don’t know how to pick myself up. And I want to go to the ways things were before everything had happened or at least to who I was before everything fell apart.