looking out from the window

I’m surprised at myself that I managed to keep this – not so secret anyways – diary going. I don’t even try to read back what I write and just type it out when it comes to me, but it works quite therapeutic to get it off my chest. And it’s comforting to know there are some of you that are going through or have been through the same experiences.

As any woman would say, it’s complicated. Maybe we make it complicated ourselves, for the sake of others’ feelings, for the sake of love, for the sake of holding on to hope. I’ve mentioned my comfort zone a couple of times, I’ve mentioned trying to hold on to what we had. Do relationships come with expiration dates? Can relationships be saved, fixed and renewed, at all times?

When I look out my window, from what I feel is my glass house, I see the world pass by. Seasons change, so do people. And so do feelings.

Thoughts I once had, are coming back to me. I failed miserably at my plans of going to college, but succeeded succesfully in my work experience. But the thought about travelling the world, are becoming more vivid in my mind again with each day. Sure I have family in far away places, which we try to visit every other year, but I wanna see more… It can’t be too late to visit the places I see on Flickr, do the things people tweet about or meet people the way Facebook connects networks. To have the world in the palm of my hand.

My stomache turns into a knot, thinking of how I got where I am today. A ghost of who I was, a faint reminder of the woman I wanted to transform in to.

That can’t be good.

It starts to rain against my window, clouds turn grey and pack up high in the sky. Until I realise, it’s my soul that’s crying from the inside.

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