I found myself this moment, in front of my diary pad, that I have not written for so long. The last one was almost a year ago. I asked myself why. Have I lost the passion to write. Have I changed to this person who does not appreciate the art of writing anymore. I know that I have not read any books for so long.
But I have just realised, that day I read through my diary. It was piercing painful dare I say it that I have been going through some painful experiences. The memories that were written were all important. It stopped me writing. And it took me this long to even dare to write again.
There are few stages I can say that have been captured in my diary.
For one, I lost a dear lover that I myself played the part of a hero to save the other party's heart and soul so it won't be hurt. Turn out, we both were hurt and there's nothing left as we both left. That was one of the most painful experience I went through.
For the second one, I began losing my will to see the future. The passions and hopes I have been holding on. Reality does tend to suck my hopes and wills. I even stopped picturing what my future could be, as picturing them has been the strategy I have to make a lovely piece in my life. Sadly, I am still coping with this stage and still figuring out.
And last, I know now that I have passed and this stage is the key that gets me to the point of knowing how it feels to feel contented. The whole of my life, I have been torturing and beating myself up just because according to the society, being proud of who you are and just because being different is wrong. But not anymore. I have come to understand, people in general don't like something different just because they get uncomfortable with differences and just because they are the one who sadly is uncomfortable on their own skin. Being true and love the way I am without even giving any spaces for rude judgments and childish labelling has opened up a wide awesome chapter in my life now.
But again, back to why I stopped writing. Turns out, I have been writing not just because I love writing. But because I have been trying to look for answers. By writing, I get to write down and lay all the questions and answers out. It was all over the place and messy I would say.
But those tangled and messy phases and stages have dissolved to this beautiful pieces of memories. Memories that I treasure so much, that I am not ashamed of. That I am not scared of. That I am not confused anymore.
That I now know, those memories are the answer to all. The answer that lead me to one answer, me. I am the answer. I can be all A to Z in one day or a month or even a year. But it all concluded in me.
There is no such things as question to an answer or vice versa. That is how those memories have taught me, to live life without questioning and even dare to answer one.
