When I look back at that girl, I smile at how cute, happy, and carefree she was. She was open to newness, excited for the possibilities, and confident that she was experiencing something she deserved. She knew after all this time, she deserved an experience that felt right. One that felt natural. One without toxicity that allowed her to be her best self at all times.
When I look back at that girl, I realize how naive she was. But I guess that’s what makes beautiful experiences what they are. They’re the ones that you jump into without thinking about the repercussions. You let yourself go. You feel and live in the moment. You’re simply you.
When I look back at that girl, I remember how she enjoyed the most mundane of things. How exhilarating it felt to be with someone new and to feel the spontaneity of it. How the conversation flow always felt so natural it put her at ease. How satisfying it was to learn from someone and realize how much they could teach you about yourself. How someone can teach you a lesson without hurting you along the way.
When I look back at that girl, I admire her—from the first date, when she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, to the last conversation that proved she was still beautifully naive. I admire her for her bravery to try. To have a warm heart despite what she’s gone through.
She enjoyed the moment. She lived the moment. She danced around the house after she got dropped off on a Friday night, followed by morning coffee together, because she was happy. When I look back at that girl, I see someone I’m grateful for. I see me.
When I look back at that girl, I realize how the happiness didn’t come from anyone else. Finally, it came from me.