Most people get lost in their thoughts; I get lost in memories. I truly believed that by moving to another country and leaving behind those places that brought me so many memories, it would make me a new person, someone who could start from scratch. I was wrong. I didn’t move just because of that, but it was my biggest motivation. I fooled myself into thinking that by changing my surroundings, I could become another person. Once again, I was wrong. I still believe that moving was something necessary; I need to learn how to fly without my parents. At the same time, today I thought I had freed myself from my past. I was wrong once again.
Today, while walking past a store, something simple became complex. How can I explain that a simple song took me back to such a distant past? I don’t want to make my life about questions anymore. I am living one of the greatest privileges anyone could have, but even so, why didn’t he text me wishing me a safe journey? He used to have my number, now he has nothing that allows him to contact me. I never meant for it to become this way, but either way, I wanted to find myself again.
Goodbyes have never been easy, tears have always been part of the plan, but why didn’t saying goodbye to the people who gave me life hurt as much as I thought it would? I get lost in memories once again and wonder what exactly I miss. I can’t understand why I insist on holding on to the good memories when I was surrounded by painful ones. I can remember every good moment exactly, every laugh, every sensation, and every feeling. Even so, I have to make an effort to remember all the tears, all the doubts, and all the pain I went through during this process, even though they were the majority.
I keep getting lost in memories, I keep getting lost in possibilities, and I always get lost in feelings. I don’t remember what it feels like to be at peace, only the illusion of it. In moments of crisis, I hold on to what I know, even when it isn’t what I have been looking for. I always wonder if I will ever find my answers, even though I have no idea what the questions are. I feel like I need to find myself, but deep down, who am I? I wonder if I ever found myself and let myself slip away while trying to force myself into something I am not. Deep down, I have always tried to fit myself into spaces where I don’t belong.
I don’t know if I hold on to these happy memories because they show me who I wish I could be. In the end, I would like to be happy again. Not that I’m sad today, don’t get me wrong, deep down, I just want happiness to last longer than a few hours. I don’t know if I’m looking in the wrong places or if I have simply surrendered to the failure of the search. I don’t know if I’m trapped in this life or if I have already passed the place I wanted to reach.
I have so many doubts and questions, even though I don’t want to define myself by them. Deep down, I always become who I don’t want to be. Is that a form of escape, or do I simply become what I know? Once again, I doubt my essence or what I wish to be. Today, I lose myself in false and posthumous memories of what I once dreamed of being.
To no One,
Cora Vesper.