"even if parts of it were terrible, I'm terribly grateful that they happened"
Notes to Self are longer journal entries from Seven Yrs Ago. Read Sticky, “100%” for more on getting over and Wicked for digging a root. I was 21 in early 2014.
Maybe your plan should be to start talking to him again and start looking at him objectively rather than subjectively. It really isn’t fair to you, you know. It isn’t, the way you tell yourself to wait and that you don’t want to move on.
Isn’t it funny how you could be in a room surrounded by people who love you and who you love back, but when one certain person doesn’t talk to you, you could feel completely alone. When I’m with you, I feel alone.
You have to realize Nicole, that despite these things that have hurt you and you’ve decided weren’t for you, they’re a part of you—they’ve made you who you are, for better
No, fuck that “for worse” part, you’re better than ever. Really. You’re just unloading baggage so you can put good stuff in.
So even though things, in the present sense particularly architecture and Jason, feel like they’re hurting you and that anything to do with them is pointless, you have to understand that you loved them before, you still love them and they’ve made you who you are right now.
You can’t turn your back completely on these things or pretend that they’re not there because they’re a part of you now.
You’re doing things now and putting things into perspective because of what these things have taught you.
Dig past the pointlessness, the bitterness and the resentment because that’s bullshit you fill your head with that weighs you down. You have to excavate and find the good stuff, take it out, keep it, then fill that hole, that digging, with good stuff that you need, that secures you. Like good solid concrete foundation.
My biggest fear is turning my back on the things that have made me me, especially the big things.
This is my past, this is what made me who I am; even if parts of it were terrible, I’m terribly grateful that they happened.