my old friend
she used to be my only consolation that i would come home to, a listener that i could tell my stories to, on days when there was no one i could turn to;
i expressed myself through her openness as she caress my sentences word by word, without a hint of judgement;
years and years, i got to know people through her, people who were in the same state as me - lost. people whose voices needed to be heard and understood.
it has been years since i logged on, and i could barely remember what came before gmail.com and the password that follows, but once the familiar shade of blue appeared in front of me, the nostalgia followed.
nine years ago, i was a sad and depressed girl trying to go on each day and she was the platform that i turned to. getting by was my only goal, and got by i did.
looking back, i wish i could tell myself that i should not live to satisfy the expectations of others and that things - good or bad happened as life goes on and itâs not my fault. i used to ask myself âwhy meâ and recollect all the bad things that happened to me - as a child, as a teenager. it sucked and thinking back now, it still sucked, but it sucked less.
my tattoo that says âlet goâ is starting to lose its meaning and i am glad, because after all these years, i am finally letting go.
and i hope that you too, will be ok.






















