A Tribute to the Girl I Abandoned

18 Feb 2018

“You’re always you, and that don’t change, and you’re always changing, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” – Neil Gaiman

I had a book once. More of a journal, really, but each and every page was littered with my chicken scratch handwriting.

Inside these pages were not just scrawlings of my happiest and saddest moments. No, within this notebook was my world.

If you read these words, you discovered so much.

I unveiled things about myself through writing that I couldn’t possibly explain out loud. It was magical. I was obsessed.

Then, I lost it.

Days, weeks, and now, over a year. That’s how long I’ve been scrambling to find the girl who waltzed between the spaces of her cursive letters.

I wonder how she’s doing, if she’s scared… maybe she’s doing just fine reliving her most impactful memories of life and death. Maybe she’s not.

I’ll never know.

Because there were days I cried for her and weeks I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t bear to feel so lost.

Sadly, I grew up. That little girl had to remain a slave to her dreams in order for me to run recklessly free into my destiny.

I remember small things about her and some of the poems she used to write, but I had to let her go because I was at fatal risk of staying stuck as her forever. I couldn’t afford to risk growth in order for comfort.

So, I wiped my tears, tore posters from my wall, burned pages and pages of silly stories, and I overcame every single obstacle in which that little girl never could defeat.

I am renewed. I am stronger. I am the most me I have ever been in my life, and let it be known that one day this girl too will be left to skip through fields of what I will see as yesterday’s youth.

Because if we do not grow, then where in the world will we go?

Without my evolution, I would be nothing of a writer at all. I’d rewrite the same endings to seemingly differing stories within the same genres, and I would one day bore myself into a writer’s coma in which I would never hold a pencil ever again.

So long as I have my pretty words inside my pretty worlds, I will remain alive in every way imaginable.

Therefore, do not fret if I change. My love for life and the truth of my words never will stray because in this moment I mean what I say and that has to count for maybe not a ton, but a whole bunch more than none.



Taelyn's Posts

Tae View All →

Life can be messy. Thank God I have my faith and my pencil.

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