Lately, I’ve come in contact with people of my past, with pictures of my past, and with random Facebook pokes from people of my past. Just like any other individual, I am drawn to the magnet that my past holds and it’s hard to break away. I remind myself that the past is there for a reason. So here’s a letter to the thing that keeps tapping me on the shoulder:
Let’s get things straight. I have started a whole new life since you and I have parted. I am in college, I am a writer, and I kick ass. I am no longer blind to love, terrible friendships, and the scale that lies on my bathroom floor. I deleted the old text messages from past loves. I deleted MySpace years ago. I deleted you, or at least I thought I did.
They say that history always repeats itself, but why? I have been told that the past is the past for a reason; it’s not meant to be in your future. I wish I could strongly believe in what I’ve been told and what I now repeat to others, but then why is it coming back to haunt me?
I recently came in contact with someone you surely know, Past. I fell for the same words; the same guy; the same smile. Thinking things would be different this time around, I was fooled. Past, you did it again. You hurt me- but thankfully, you and your series of unfortunate events have shaped me into the strong woman I am today. I am haunted by events of you. But aren’t we all haunted? That is something we have to live with; it’s something I have to live with.
When I dream, it’s of things that I wish never left my side: people, objects, places. I wish I still had my childhood best friend. I wish I still had the chance to say I’m sorry to a guy that was nothing but in love with me. I wish I had the chance to punch someone in the face- but hey, shit happens. Time changes everything and everyone around us. It’s hard to deal with sometimes, and other times it’s rather easy. Time allows us to move on, but the images of you reoccur in my head quite more often than I’d like.
It’s crazy, how the littlest thing could make me think of you. The smell of a certain food, the notes of a song, or even the sight of a place that holds countless memories all brings me back to one moment. I was blessed and cursed with a golden memory and that is probably one of the reasons why I have such a hard time dealing with you, Past.
Past, you make me think. You make me worry. You make me terribly angry. But I have learned that you do not determine my present. I do. You do not determine my future; we create our own future. I am the writer of my own story. I technically wrote you. But, when it comes to your chapter, I am done. I turned the page and I am ready to move forward.
Basically, this is a goodbye to you; a goodbye to all that I knew. It’s time to pick up the pen and start fresh. A new page every day. Your book is getting old and torn, and I am done trying to fix it. I have learned my lesson, as I have been burned. So, thanks for the memories.