Who I am??

A great part of my life is sitting right in front of me, in an under-the-bed box that has been shoved away out of sight. My Journals.

Years of torment, self-torture, suffering, and a single young woman lie dormant in one fairly small box.

I pick various books up, read the dates, and start reading the entries. They are full of sadness, with sparkles of the nicest memories my mind can imagine. There is something joyful inside me however whenever I think back to some of my heartbreaks.

But it got me thinking, do I need to relive those memories to move forward? As I read through book after book, I am realize that I have forgotten things that used to haunt my life so very much. How I loved that one boy so much, and how I never truly understood why things went wrong. How sometimes I felt so alone even when I wasn’t. And, of course, there were the mistakes. The dreadful, awful, what was I thinking mistakes. Those are what haunt me the most....still.

I could burn these journals, all of them, light the match and be done with those memories. After all, how many memories have I forgotten because they were never written down? Perhaps the best memories, the most vivid ones, the most important ones of all, are ones that I will automatically remember...the ones that I hold dear to my heart.

Maybe I’m holding on to something by holding on to these journals, which until blogging entered my life were never really given much thought. I knew only that they were glimpses of my past, an easy way to take a stroll back in time, to the times of heartbreak and struggle that brought me to this very place, right at this very moment in my room on the floor.

On one hand, it’s enlightening to be able to see clearly the road that made me who I am today. On the other, I’m already me... do I really need to know how I got here? Nothing will change by re-reading these journals, right?

I can't seem to part with them...they hold such a part of me....even though it's past....it still shares my journey. I'm glad I'm still writing....