Healing

Once, a friend asked me if I could write about better stuffs. Happy stuffs. I just laughed and told him I could not.

I thought about the way I write after that. I did some back-reading on my blogs and realized that I had so much of those really sad thoughts.

Well. I had nothing to say about this. Or I did, maybe. Fine, I still have a lot to say about this.

It’s that I can write about the good stuffs. I used to be able to do that a lot. I have owned a blog since high school. And believe me, my younger self had so much of the happy sappy moments to write about. She used to be all smiles and laughing moments. Everyday was for chasing after her dreams, for loving and being loved. For winning and losing with a smile on her face.

She lost that, apparently. She was so strong but then she lost to a battle she knew she would not win over before it even started. Losing like that at such a young age, hey, that’s not easy.

Something did go wrong. Because she never got her old self back. She carried that loss so much it defined most of her as she grew up. She did that, grew up. But never moved on. Always, at a moment’s notice, she’d go back to the day she lost and cry all over again.

To a certain extent, she never really left that battlefield. But she promised she’d keep on fighting to get herself back. To escape from that memory. To heal completely.

She’s working so hard to keep that promise, you must know. She’s strong and brave enough. She can do that. I believe she can.

I believe I can. Please believe that I can.