Alcippe

my decade-old tumblr bio says

"I’m 17 years old and a bit silly. I recently gave up 90% of all the things I love and I don’t know who I am anymore but I’m okay with that. My life seems better this way."

I'm now 27 (going on 28) and entering another existential period in my life where I don't recognise the person in the photos on the walls any more. The photos where I look happy and content with the life I've built for myself. The photos that people see and say 'I'm so glad you're doing great"

they see me but I don't see me (or at least not the me I am right now)

Regrets of the past have been caching up. Why didn't I realise this sooner // why didn't I leave earlier // why didn't I speak up // why wasn't I a better friend // why was I this person // all this over a boy // why didn't you fight back // why can't you remember