As I stare into the face of the next chapter of my life, I'm reminded of...a lot of unpleasant things.  Of loss, of disappointment, of regret, and hopelessness.  I can see now why some people might feel drawn toward the idea of making a clean break from their past.

But of course...

 

So I hang onto my baggage anyways.  I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't, and at the same time, I wouldn't forgive others for letting go either.  Because to many people, I am now "Somebody's Yesterday".

I guess maybe that isn't true anymore, actually.  Maybe I have started to forgive those from my past for forgetting me.  I began to understand that maybe I was really something that was better to be forgotten than remembered.  Perhaps that is why all of those people refuse to answer when I call for them.  Why wouldn't they?

Over 15 years ago I found myself asking what I was doing wrong, and how I would ever become loved, how I would ever dig myself out of the hole that I found myself in.  After living through trauma, joy, loss, happiness, and grief, I find that I've learned more about the nature of people.  I learned that people often don't mean what they say, but also that people are different than me.

I also learned that being loved is like being asleep.  You can't make someone love you, just as you can't make yourself fall asleep.  The best you might do is to go to bed, close your eyes.  Sleep is something that happens to you, not an action that you do.  I think this is where people get the idea to "work on yourself first" in order to be loved.

But that's really not advice that I would want on myself from 15 years ago.  Not at all.  The me from back then had many rough edges, but those rough patches needed care and bandages, not sandpaper.  I needed help, but didn't know how to find it.  I didn't understand.  But because I didn't understand, I also was not hopeless.

Now, however, I can see more clearly.  It has become a little easier for me to understand how people function.  How connections are formed.  Sometimes, that clarity makes my faith waver.

All I would want for myself from 15 years ago is peace.  I don't think they needed any advice in the end, after all.  They just needed safety.  Of course, they also desperately needed care, too.  But in the absence of that, I think safety is what they needed most.  It wasn't until much later on that they would manage to find it.

 

What I wish for myself in the coming future, more than anything....it is, of course, that peace and tranquility.  I'm frightened, but not only of what may come next.  I'm also frightened of all that has come before.  When I think about it too hard, it feels as if both past and future are closing in on me.  My friends who lost their lives.  Me, who lost my place.  I lost my old self, too.  How much longer will it take for me to reach where I once was?  And even if I do, would it even be a good thing?

I have done so much, for so long.  And no one will ever truly know all of my sacrifices.  I'll just be silently waiting.  Waiting...for what?