I’m not the same as I was a few years back, or last year, or last month, last week, yesterday, earlier this morning, or the seconds that passed by as I write this. Teeny tiny changes are happening in me every millisecond of my life—well, that might be an exaggeration, but the point is, the me you knew before isn’t the one standing in front of you now.
I’ve changed, and I’m proud to tell you that.
Yes, I’m still smiling while talking to you, that’s because good things have been happening lately.
It isn’t because of you anymore.
Yes, I’m still answering your calls and your texts and still do as you say, but that’s because they’re not bad ideas and you’re not boring to talk to.
Yes, I still care about you, but that’s because you were once a part of me and that would never change. We might have already exited each other’s lives but your footprints still remains.
Yes, I still miss you sometimes, but that’s because we made so many memories together. Don’t get me wrong, it’s the memories I miss, and how sometimes I think that I wasted good ones with the wrong person. Then I’d always correct myself. You weren’t a ‘wrong person’, you were right for me at that time, but as I said, changes happened and there’s more coming but you just weren’t ecstatic about it.
Yes, you were the right person for me then, but not now.
You wanted to stay, and I wanted to walk.
You stopped me and convinced my mind that the road less traveled isn’t something I could travel by myself. Yet I wanted to go. You said I wasn’t weighing the consequences right, that it’s not something someone like me could possibly pass through. But I learned and realized.
I learned and realized that I didn’t have to wait for people’s approval so I could walk. My feet are not theirs; they’re mine to use whenever I want to and wherever I want.
I learned and realized that I’d be the one receiving the consequences and not them. They’re not the one walking so they wouldn’t know how tired I feel, the pain it’s causing me, or the joy it’s giving me. Our emotions aren’t one.
I learned and realized that some people help me because I could be of use later, and it’s not technically called helping. You don’t count how many you’ve helped but how many you could still help.
I learned and realized that no amount of good deeds or achievements I bring on the table can make up for one mistake—and that’s okay, because my achievements are for mine to make use of and there are more mistakes to come.
I am still learning and realizing things at my own pace. I am still growing. I am still changing. But maybe, just maybe, when you’ve come in terms of the changes you want on yourself, we could grab coffee and talk about it; but until then, you can just sit there and watch me walk through the road you said I couldn’t.