Sunday, 1 March 2015

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Do you ever wish you could start all over again?

You could wake up fresh one Monday morning, oblivious to mistakes from the weekend before. You’d stride through the hallways and smile at anyone and everyone. Introduce yourself; repeat your name enough times so that even you start to believe that things will be different this time. Better. Wave a final goodbye to the monster you’ve grown into, sprint away from the horror you let yourself become, get rid of the demons that have haunted you for far too long. You’re naive to think they won’t chase you.

Every bitter drop of blood that’s exploded over your tongue after you bit it too hard, wishing you could take back the words - gone. Every disappointed look you’ve ever gotten, those that seek to remind you that you’ve never been good enough, every heartless roll of the eye, every pursed pair of lips - all the judgement would be washed away. As if it never even happened.

And all those times you’ve felt alone, as worthless as the tear drops that slip down your cheeks, those wouldn’t exist anymore. You could silence the voices that echo through your head, those that spit out your every mistake. They consume you; drown you in a pool of your own failure. Deeper, deeper. You could remember what it feels like to breathe again. Or could you?

Because starting again doesn’t just mean escaping the girl you used to be. It means forgetting her too. Forgetting the times you’ve laughed until your stomach begged you to stop, forgetting the books you’ve read - the stories you’ve let run wild through your mind. It means forgetting the two or three friends you do have, those that held back your auburn curls on the night, or nights, you spent drowning your sorrows in sour drinks you pretended to like the taste of. The friends that stayed up all night with you, garden grass tickling the backs of their necks, admiring glistening pinpricks and listening to you share your biggest dreams. They will disappear too; look at you with glass eyes, as if you are nothing more than a stranger. Because remember, you never existed to them, or to anyone else.

And what will you be then?