I've spent the better part of the day so far going through old pictures, and what was left after that browsing through my old livejournal and deadjournal entries (yes, I know...what can I say? I was a sad little emo motherfucker for a while).
A couple of things:
a) I can't believe how everything seemed so important. Thank God I got over that.
b) How come no one ever slapped me for being so whiny?
c) The comments left on some entries by friends have been making me cry...especially the friends I've lost along the way...I miss having so many people who cared so much about me. I know I have plenty of people now who love me and care about me, but the number of those who are seriously invested in my well-being has gone down exponentially over the years.
d) I had so much more optimism and romanticism then. When did I become such a cynic?
Maybe it has something to do with hitting legal drinking age? Along with easier-to-come-by vodka, there's pessimism and doubt? I don't know that I believe that.
Even in my epic ramblings about heartbreak and pain and fate and whatever the hell else I was trying to sound intelligent about, I still managed to find a bright spot. No matter what the subject, I turned it around to make it a little bit better.
I don't know if I can do that anymore. It certainly doesn't seem like it.
Maybe I don't need that crutch anymore. Maybe after living a little more, experiencing more, I realize that there isn't always a bright spot. Maybe the fact that I'm more emotionally healthy now lets me accept the world as it is, without the rose-colored glasses.
My little revisit of the past today? It's given me much to think about.
Shake on it.
15 hours ago