I’ve come a long way away from myself in the past few years. I look in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at me. And I suppose that isn’t exactly a bad thing. I’ve grown leaps and bounds, but I always seem to find myself back to where I started. Point A. I’ve shed bits and pieces of myself. Pieces I never wanted to lose. And now I am, once again, a hollowed shell of myself. Am I still in there somewhere? How do I learn to allow myself to be happy? And to hold on to the happiness just as I do the sadness? I’m terrified of letting go of all the anger and grief that I cling to, to only become a watered down version of myself. What if all of that is what makes me who I am?
& What would be left of me?