You know, it's strange going back through all my old books and stories and posts and seeing how my mind used to work. How I looked at certain situations and formed them into poetry. How I represented everything using metaphors, some recurring, like bicycles or monsters or angels or flowers, all seemed to be common themes that I brought back up and used to represent the different aspects of my life. 

It takes me back in time. When I saw a certain situation in a certain light. Or felt an emotion I haven't felt since then, and to read it all over again, to have it described back to me by a past version of myself who was living it at that moment, brings back the weirdest sort of feeling. Because now, I see everything sort of different. But it's weird to think, you know, 'that's what was going through my head a year ago.'

'That's what I was feeling a year ago.'

It's just, I can't believe that that was me. 

But it was.

Because I think about it all in my head, and I only see pictures. I only see snapshots, glimpses, images in my mind of certain scenes or events that happened in my life. I don't get the emotions. 

And it all feels a thousand worlds away, another life, another person. 

Almost as if it could have been a storybook.

But when I go back and read about it, I suddenly get washed over with that almost sickening familiarity of what I was feeling. What I thought of everything. What my world looked like and sounded like and felt like at the time.

The same thing goes with music. I associate so many songs with what I was going through and what I was dealing with at the time and then don't listen to them afterward, so when I hear them again for the first time since then, it brings back a rush of images and feelings and deep connections that I thought I'd buried and moved past from.

Sometimes it makes me want to cry. Sometimes it hurts my head to put myself back in those positions. But sometimes I can't help it, because sometimes, it feels like home.

It's incredible how much my world, my mind, my whole life has changed in a matter of a year. And strangely enough, and I don't know how long I can say this for, but I'm comfortable here. Of course, it has its upsides and downsides, and things could always go wrong, 

But I read my old poetry. And look at old pictures. And listen to old songs. And relive old memories, again and again and again to the point where I'm so intoxicated in them, I can't let go.

But as Taylor Swift says, the trick to holding on is letting go. 

And I can't move on without letting go.

It's going to be time for me to let go.