Forever January

The entries regarding my breast reduction have been moved to their own site.

You can locate them here.

but now we must pack up every piece
of the life we used to love
just to keep ourselves
at least enough to carry on …

- Neutral Milk Hotel, “Holland 1945″

I find there’s an excitement brewing deep down as I quietly peek through the cracks at it with a childish curiosity, quietly contemplating to myself what it could all mean. The days start sliding by so fast with the force of an avalanche, racing to that point in time where the line takes a sharp turn off into another horizon.

And I must not — I cannot — hold on to the past, even though those days are now wrapped in a hazy, warm blanket of nostalgia. They’ve created yearnings, pinings, wishful thinkings for what once was. Regret is in the desire for change, the need for solace, the memorisation of the thousand “what-ifs” that plague your dreams when you sleep. And remorse? Regret that bored a hole through the heart, manifested into the soul.

How can it be that these things live in me? The girl who lived with no regrets, now in the heaving waves of a remorseful sea.

And so it now goes that once again there is an ocean between us. You have your island and I have mine. We’re simply drifting into the sunset, not knowing where we go.

But I will remember this partially as the summer where I had one magnificent day with you, and even if it comes that this was our only day together for the rest of our lives, I’ll cherish it always.

And still I just can’t help but feel it wasn’t enough …

Nothing ever is.