Today I found a journal entry from January of 2010. In it, I wrote:
"So we can easily spend an entire life looking in a rear view mirror. Looking back. Wondering...what if? Wanting to participate in everything occurring around us, yet pretending to be content standing on the sidelines."
A few months later, I wrote:
"I am so depressed and sad. I wish I could make all of this pass."
As I read the entries this morning, I cried. I cried, and wished I could put my arms around my former self and tell her it is going to be okay. Tell her she will one day stop looking in the rear view mirror and smile again.
But most importantly, I would tell her she will feel alive again someday.
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