So I know it’s been a very long while since I wrote in here, but since things seem very stable at the moment I haven’t really felt the need…that was until these past couple of days when Matt’s been out of town. I had this strange notion that I wanted to go back and read through ALL of my old journal entries, but also listen to the music and songs that are mentioned in each one of them as I read. It’s been very eye-opening. I realized just how much going to Korea changed me. I was so very childish and immature before then, kind of like an extension of my teenage years, and it wasn’t til I got away from everything and everyone I knew that I was able to grow into a whole person, instead of the fractured and injured little girl I had been until that point.
But reading through all of those entries and especially listening to the music that goes with them, I feel like I’m kind of reverberating between the then and the now…like that world is an alternate reality just beyond the reach of my own, but all I have to do is stretch out my arms just far enough and I might be able to touch it. Everything just seems that clear when you read about it as written by the firsthand. It’s also amazing the hindsight one has in retrospect. I see everything that I did wrong, and all the things I have to be ashamed of…all the people I hurt, but also all the people who hurt me. I see how everything really wasn’t as big a deal as I thought it was at the time, but of course, when boundless emotion is all you feel everything seems like the most important thing. I’m just not as moved or swayed as I used to be back then; I’m much more stable now. Of course that also comes with its own set up problems. Is it better to be thought a neurotic childish girl, but also have that ability to be filled with unending emotion and passion from one moment to the next? Or is it better to be stable and calm, unwavering to the rash desires and wills of youth? I’ve become a “normal” person through all of this, but have I lost something in the process? And was it worth the losing? I remember the sadness, the pain, and the depression, but it was also so wonderful in its poignancy and the secretiveness of it all. It was my own little world of suffering that no one could see, no one could understand. It was mine and mine alone…and I loved it.
In any case, this is how it is. Shouganai (しょうがない) deshou? There’s no way to recover what it is that was lost, but would I want to anyway? Probably not if instability and pain are the side effects. So yes, this is where I am, and this is where I’m happy to be.