There was a girl I once knew- I admired her so. She knew exactly where she wanted to be and exactly how to get there. She was opinionated, outspoken and at times down-right inappropriate. Quirky and loud, sassy and eccentric. She was feared in a strangely admirable way by both men and women like. Always walked with her head held high, chest forward- if she feared anything in life, it was not outwardly obvious.
That girl was me.
& so it seems that somewhere along the way I’ve lost myself. Piece by piece, the small bits of myself that were the solid definition of my being have dissipated, leaving me slightly bewildered. I suppose this is what most refer to as a mid-life crisis, yet I’m hardly mid-life by standard. I’ve searched high and low, and it seems the more I look the more lost I become. My dreams are dissolving faster and faster, and I’m not sure how I’m continuously losing ground.
Where does one go from here, when progression is only regressing?
