Things change, people change and nothing ever really lasts forever. Everything you go through in life is just lessons after lessons and mistakes after mistakes, not even when you're old and wrinkled do you stop making them and learning from them. In this past year I admit I've made loads of mistakes, I admit that not everything I did was correct and not everything I did was something I wanted. This year was filled with mistakes after mistakes and yet no lessons were learned because I know if I could I would go back and live it all again.

Some say I'm selfish and others say I'm stupid for still caring and maybe they're right, but they don't know what it felt like to feel alive and to finally be able to breathe after years of suffocating in my own self-pity. This year I can genuinely say that for once, I felt happy and content with the way things were. Everything was utterly fine until it all abruptly ended. Sure, I've lost people I love and I might not be able to get them back but maybe I needed them gone. I lost the trust I earned and the caring I yearned for but instead I got warmth and loving from someone I never expected to get it from, from someone who now I would never see again.

I constantly go back to those days were I was sitting at the edge of the cliff watching my feet dangle and watching the waves move back and forth aggressively hitting the giant rocks at the very bottom. I would go back to the tears and the shouting, to the running and the screaming. I would go back to the night everything ended and wonder if I could have done anything to change the way things happened. Sometimes I would still cry. But most of all I would go back to the nights were I tried to calm things down, when everything was tense and stupid things were done. Everything led back to me trying to find out where the glitch was, why things had to end so badly. Questioning myself if it was my fault, every single night I would ask myself and most of those nights I couldn't sleep.

I had so many memories and feelings bottled up and I couldn't let them go, I couldn't forget them. They were precious and delicate and they were the one thing that I needed to keep all to myself. I'm scared, scared of forgetting all of those memories and feelings. I'm scared of never being able to move on if I don't let them go.

Every night since the incident something would whisper softly in my ear, "let it go" but I simply couldn't. It wasn't easy and boy did I try. I gave it my best shot yet I couldn't let those memories go and it was killing me to relive them every day. I felt guilty and dirty, I couldn't move without feeling worse than I felt now.

Tears after tears, memory after memory.

There was a battle going on and I stand on the side watching them fight, no one was getting hurt, no one but myself. I was wounded and broken; I was torn into little bits of pieces nobody could put back together. Nothing could fix the way I felt, nobody could fill up the holes. I was stained and it felt as if everybody was pointing fingers. It wasn't my fault yet I felt guilty and doomed. I was condemned to these abhorrent and lurid feelings. The battle between forgetting and reliving. Every day I had to decide and no matter what I ended up choosing I would fall in a deep hole of hurt and distress. A hole that never ended and only made things worse than they already were. I tried filling it but it was useless, as if something was burying me in deeper and I couldn't escape.

It felt as if I couldn't achieve the happiness everyone else felt at this stage in life. I was trapped in my own depressed little world, I was buried deeper than anyone else had a right to be and I sincerely didn't know if I could recover.

The first years of my life were like being held back without freedom or permission to do even the littlest things. All of my friends went out and had fun, they would tell me about it while I felt sorry for myself. But I managed to escape, it wasn't easy or fast. But slowly I was living the life I've always wanted. Carefree, laughter and sunshine filled my days for a full year and even though I enjoyed it while it lasted, I was devastated when it reached its unwanted end. The ending was a terrible one, it felt like I was being ripped apart and I only wanted to scream. By then I was a disaster, I went back to never leaving my house only this time I had no friends. I had no one to tell me about their exciting experiences, I had none of that.

The pain is unbearable yet it's something I needed. Maybe it'll help me to move on or maybe it'll just bury me in deeper.