Every day that I wake up, a part of me wants to go out there and face the reality. A part of me would like to live a "normal" life once again -- talking to my friends, smiling and laughing with them as we tell each other stories of our lives. But that can't happen. Not yet, at least. I still find myself not ready to be that person again. That person who can wake up, genuinely happy and looking forward to the day ahead of her.
I try. God knows how hard I try to put the past behind me and move on with my life. But it's hard. It's too hard for me to go to that direction where I can face myself and say, "I'm happy." I know I said that I am beginning to go there. Yes, I am...but the truth is, I find myself stuck at the beginning. Every step I take is one that takes a lot out of me.
Every minute that goes by, I think about the people I care about so deeply. I am lucky enough that I am able to talk to my parents, I get to see my relatives. They're the only people keeping me sane at the moment. If I didn't have them, who knows what could happen to me. But I know deep in my heart that they are not enough. A part of my life is still missing. That part belongs to my friends. The friends I have been hiding from since that "fateful day."
I am beginning to think that the month will end with me not talking to any of my friends. Maybe it's all for the best. Let this month pass by with me not talking to anyone but my family. It's not that I want to stay away from my friends. It's just that I feel that it's better for everybody, including myself, to let things be for a while. Sooner or later, I know I'm going to have to talk to them. I'm just not ready to do that yet. I just don't know when "sooner or later" is going to be.
I imagine it's going to be a gloomy birthday. In less than three weeks, I am going to be another year older. 22, to be exact. I imagine a not-so-fun day for me.
We'll see what the future holds...
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