Letters to you: New Beginnings

Dear B,

Do you ever get the feeling that people fill their lives with stuff, just so that they can forget? Or at least so they can escape the reality of their own lives...which can be often boring, often painful, often numbing. 

Well...for the past year...I've stopped writing. Growing up as an only child, I've done a lot of writing in my journal, whether it's "I went to a birthday party and we swam in the pool. It was fun." to "My parents are so unfair, I hate them" (which, by the way, is when I realized that my mom had been reading my journal because she responded to that entry and wrote back to me in MY OWN journal, "But Steph, how will you get into Harvard if you don't study hard?" Wow. Typical Asian parent...but guess what Mom, I didn't even apply to Harvard! Ha! Joke's on you!) So to make a long story short, I liked writing about my thoughts and things that happened. It was nice (and kind of funny) to look back and remember my life, narrated by me, as it was happening. So that brings me back to why I haven't written for the past year. I've stopped wanting to remember. Maybe I was going through a tough year (minus the maybe). Those were the days when I couldn't sit down to write because that meant sit down and face the facts. Reality check. Ha, no thanks. But that's the thing...you can't run away from your own thoughts, you can only hide them away and/or drown them out temporarily. So that's what I did. I'd watch t.v until late enough at night so that as soon as I got into bed, I would fall asleep instead of lie awake with my thoughts. These thoughts usually came in the form of questions to myself: "Are you letting your life slip by? Will you become a big waste of potential? Are you going to be lonely your whole life? Are you always going to be disappointed by others? Is it possible to mess up so bad that whatever it is can never be fixed? Why am I the way I am?"

B, I know you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. I imagine some people's lives are simple. Or maybe everyone is carrying around a load of burdens, worries, fears, scars, regrets on their shoulders. I don't know. But this is my next step. I'm going to write again. Whether it's pretty or ugly, uplifting or depressing. I don't want to say it's a journey of self-discovery because I'm not sure I could ever understand or comprehend myself, but instead I want it to be a journey of growth and new beginnings. No more wanting to forget, no more hiding. Whenever I used to clean my room, my strategy was just to shove everything somewhere it couldn't be seen--under the bed, in the closet, etc. Ha, guess what...my room wasn't very clean; in fact, I think it kind of got worse every time I fake-cleaned. You get the analogy right? Man, I love analogies.

Anyway, we haven't talked in a while, but I hope you are doing well. Don't be upset at the friend you were telling me about ok? Everyone's human and bound to mess up, but they don't always do it intentionally. And even if they do, it might just mean their load of burdens is a little heavier than they can bear by themselves. Life's too short to hold grudges. Hope to hear from you soon..

-SL