Stay with me. Let's just breathe.

Sometimes, I just wanna go back. Back, back.
Back to...I don't know. When things were easier? When I was little and all I had to do was sit on the couch in pink flannel PJs and play with my new cat and call up my neighbors (one of whom I now frequently see at the bus stop...13 years later) and play N64 and run after the ice cream truck and create fake businesses and catch bluegill and whatever.
Back to when the biggest thing on my to do list was the swim meet after school. Or the game on Friday. Or whether or not I'd see you at your locker. Or whatever.
Back to when things were easier or before I knew what it was like to be really hurt or to really fight with people you cared about or to have important relationships really change.

But then, I think...you have to keep moving forward because going back to those times 1. Is impossible, and therefore not worth dwelling on, and more importantly, 2. Will not make anything better. Yes, you probably would feel at least a little bit better, a little bit fuller, a little bit more fulfilled right away...but then nothing would change, and eventually, it would still hurt. Yep, it's better to hurt sometimes, because moving forward is the only way that it will eventually STOP hurting and start being something again.

This is sad, I know.

It's just that at night I've got nowhere to hide.

I am so much better than I was last year.
I am so much happier than I was last year.

I am so much better than I was last year, and here's how I know:

Last year, I wrote down resolutions, of sorts. Things to do in the next year. (Last year, I was the most sad/depressed I've ever been. A mess)
One of them said, "Be happier. It's a choice."

I know because when I wrote that, I didn't believe that it was.
But...I can't really argue with it anymore.

Just reading everything I wrote then...it doesn't feel like me anymore. And that's a good thing.

Definitely a good thing.
Bring on another.