Got sick of my old blog provider so here I am. I have much faith in WordPress. 
Home tends to get a bit sickening after the first few days (brings a whole new meaning to homesickness, doesn’t it?) but meeting up with different people helps me to forget that I ever wanted to leave in the first place. Mind you, it was never the place, but me. It was always me and these crazy pursuits I have in my head that I hunt down, pushing aside the expectations of me, the norms of my time, the faces that I had loved and lost somewhere along the ride of the unpaved, hurtful road that dragged me by the knees, drew fresh blood and left me knocked out cold with an amnesia of happier times and conscious recollection of the bad and ugly, complete with a slap and five more on the face. I was ready to go and be someone that didn’t have a history.
Four years down and I want to think that I’m different. That I’ve learned from my mistakes, smashed my ignorance to bits and pieces that will never come back to haunt me, and am a better, well-informed person. I’ve hardened my heart, opened up my life to bigger possibilities and placed limits into the garbage bin. The joy of the disappearance of the pretentiousness, the ‘cool’ that I no longer took notice of. God, it felt good. I was free. I wanted to experience it all with this wealth of freedom. Just give it to me, dammit. I wanted to work and play hard, shove your words back down your throat. See, I’m here. I don’t care where in hell you are anymore cause I’m no longer there. Call me Miss Uppity but I don’t need your damn approval and fake smiles, and no, you can’t touch what I have just the way I couldn’t when you were top. Now that I’m here, I’m prepared to fend you off just the way I could never have done when I was younger, more stupid, and your victim.
Part of me is secretly curious though. I turn to face my chair towards the mirror, pull up my knees and place my chin on them. I see the familiar yet different eyes which have seen so much. I’m wondering… The girl from four years ago, or five…?
What would she think of me now?
That girl believed in the marginalisation that pushed her into a locked-up corner, the stories on TV with happy endings and that changed people would revert back to the way they were before. She held onto dreams and talked of a love that was keeping her alive, singing sad songs that made her cry out in the open and naively thought that friendships would indeed last forever. That girl wouldn’t dream of walking away. She had always thought that love came easy and free. No one would talk to her about pre-marital sex, and maybe one day, she’d be as cool as the girl on her right.
I am not prepared to talk about it all because history’s more often than not proven to be a waste of time to reflect upon when it has already changed my person, but I do that a lot anyway. I’ve learnt that evidently, boys come and go. Friends will walk away when things take too much effort, prove to be difficult, and those whom you had earlier classed as the best one whom you’d like to stand next to you at your wedding and hold your hand as you get the jitters might just ditch you for the next man. Others pull through and will be honoured to be your children’s godparents when you ask.
Love… love is love, and it may be hard to come by, or the mere realisation that it exists in your life might take awhile, but there shouldn’t be a textbook definition plastered to its forehead. The boy who couldn’t love you lost you; you did not lose him. And no one else’s opinion should matter most but to your own. If you can answer to your own conscience, then scream a big ‘f*** you!’ and do it. Walk away when you need to cause not everything is meant to be and if it is, it’ll come running back into your life, where it belongs most.
I don’t know if the girl from 4, 5 years ago will be happy with the me of today. I just know that I can’t take any of it back and cannot & will not waste my time thinking about what could’ve been. I’m moving along so that the girl from 5 years in the future has known for a long time that accepting the way things are is part and parcel of life.
And this is why I said I ruminate lots. Welcome to my blog, detailing the salt, chilli and pepper I utilise to make my bland red sauce of life a little more interesting.
