Where my Memories lies

I am trying to let go.

I have this very bad habit of holding on to things. It started with the littlest of things that happen in everyday life- the years and years of journals, the college notebooks, my first cellphone from my earning, that one tee that went off with every jeans.

I have had these all and more saved, protected, somewhere in my closet and wrapped up literally in the corner of my dull mind. And, once, I was master at saving the little things, I tried holding onto to bigger things. My first love, for instance, I held onto her for as long as I could remember.

It is the inkling of something wrong, something deeply wrong within me. The other day, I was thinking about how I had ended up here and how, I no longer wanted myself to see in that picture that I had not allowed to fade. It is difficult to tell myself that I have the power to decide but once I acknowledged the truth, it no longer lay as a burden. It melted as the foam in the ocean would. As simple as that.

The truth is that what was, is no more.

The same kind of addiction I feel for this blog. There was a time when all my life circled around this space, where I had bravely let out the biggest secrets of my real life. I was without a face and yet beyond all that, I had not voice but I had the words. And, someone was listening to me. I was not alone. It grew, the addiction but it could never satisfy me.

No matter, how much I decorate this space, it always feel short. There was a kind of emptiness here which no amount of visitors could satisfy.

And, when all others I know continue to write, I am stuck up with not even one inspiration to continue to write. The difference in me is remarkable. I don't write as often as I did. I don't comment as often I did. I don't even come here as often as I did.

There is a part of me that began here and ended here. I am no longer concerned whether my blog is ranking somewhere, or someone would ever be interested in sponsoring me. It is just one thing that I am learning about myself. My obsession over things fades over time.

Over time, I may even decide to end this journey or I may even begin a new one. It does not scare me as before. I have learnt in these past few months that the best adventures happen when they are not planned. I have had the most adventurous time when I was trying to overcome depression, when I was busy planning a life that would happen twenty five year down the lane.

And, because I was too busy to do everything else, I missed out on those adventures at that moment. They are memories now, that I could hardly relive. I can only sense their essence, the intense feeling of repent.

I need time to see myself for who I am. I am the same, just the mirrors through which I see, change.