I stopped writing one day.I have no idea why.I cannot remember when it happened.All I recall is the hours I used to spend with a pen in my hand, and all of the notebooks I used to fill up with words.
They are words that linked together my most intimate thoughts, my deepest fears, my insecurities.I can go back through what I have left of those writings and piece together my life.My youth.My past.Kind of.
I read some of the things I have written and remember who I was.I remember feeling so lost and alone in the world.I recall the criticism my writing always brought from those closest to me.Always I was told that it was good, but why didn’t I ever write about anything happy.All of it is so sad.
I look at it now and wonder why no one could read like I do, why they didn’t see how miserable I was.How alone I felt.I suppose because I hid behind some great smile and laughed and had a good time that must have meant I was all right.I guess that because I was young it was just phases I went through.Something I would grow out of.And I wonder did I grow out of it?
Because the depressing words stopped.They just went away.Suddenly I woke up one day and realized I was no longer young.Far from old, but I had passed into that middle place where I couldn’t hide behind the insecurities of my youth any longer.
And like the words that stopped being committed to page, I have no idea how I came to this place.I feel so lost.Lost words, lost years.Where did they go?I know the words resonate in my head.But why did I stop putting them down onto paper?
There is so much I have surely forgotten.So many marked pieces of my life that really never changed.
I once thrived on being surrounded by people.They too disappeared somewhere along the way.I feel crazed at this moment…like I am spinning out of control.Where in the hell did it all go?Where are those people who I counted on…those friends who would always be there for me?Where did they go?
And who is this person that stares at me from the mirror?What does she want with her bloated body, puffy face, and lines under her eyes?Where did I go?The pretty girl who used to laugh…why did she leave?
She wrote such sad words.She felt like she was dying inside.But for every word she put to paper she was able to release a bit of hurt, a moment of pain.And then she was able to move on.
This new me, this new person who doesn’t get it out anymore…she is truly the one who is dying.She can’t get away from the hurt and heartache.It just keeps building inside with nowhere to go.
Now I really am afraid.The past just slipped by me.Disappeared.Everyone who had once been so important to me is gone.I don’t know where they went.And I can’t help but wonder…will I just disappear too?