The way I used to be

Another old musing of mine resurfaced in facebook. Damn that thing... always reliving what was.  I took a long time off social media a few years back for this reason. It helped me forget, because FB reminding me everyday of what my life had been the past years, was just pure torment. 

11 years ago, I wrote a note. It was down right from the gut.  I remember why I wrote it... I can hark back to the scenario that led me into that emotional state.  I still know who I was pertaining to. Haha! Years later, that person would try to add me as a friend in facebook, but I never acknowledged the friend request.  I just didn't see the point, I still don't.  😂

"This will be the last minute that I will let you hurt me. No. I will not retaliate... but every time that I have to cross paths with you again, I would painstakingly fight back... silently... not to hurt you even if you deserve it... but to appease my mind and free myself of every misery I allowed you to bring."

It was a moment of freeing myself from the baggage that were weighing me down.

A two minute read-note. Looking back, I marvel at how I had the time to even entertain those kind of feelings... then again I know myself. I was always in touch with my sentiments... that was why I could write the way I write. Well, not anymore. Adulting has changed me. Now I reject some emotions, because sometimes, it's the only way to survive, and the saddest thing about it, is that, I don't write it out anymore, like the way I used to before.

Maybe because I didn't trust myself that I could still write. I was hurting too much, and writing hurt the most, because it would mean confronting my emotions. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to help myself though. I have so many scribbles in all sorts of objects I could write on... a sheet of tissue paper/paper towel, back of receipts, candy wrappers... the list goes on. There were times that I allow myself to give in... because at least I would be saving some pieces of the old me.

These are heartwarming comments. I wish I could write that way again. It seems that I lost my mojo. Or am I really aging, that my trains of thoughts seem to quickly vaporize to thin air as soon as I think of them?

Will I ever transform back to my writing self again?