Versions of Me

Growing up I haven’t exactly been quiet but more reserved.

Not many friends and not many enemies

Little memories that fade away in the blink of an eye.

Feels like passing through life without knowing what it is.

You know the feeling of satisfaction and aliveness you get when traveling in a car, passing through nature
and you put your hand outside the window.

All of the sudden you seem to understand everything and everything becomes quiet.

I longed for that, the fact that I need to be happy because I deserve to be happy.

Not that I wasn’t when I was reserved but I didn’t exactly see the picture I wanted to put out or the picture
was showing a blurry version of me.

Entering a new stage of life I decided to allow my voice to be heard, for my presence to be known.

I didn’t need loud but acknowledged

And in the midst of it all, most times I just want to carve into my shell being that little reserved girl.

It feels like she’s fighting to be back and I find it difficult to reach out to her to embrace her, and to become
her.

Because the gap has been torn open in the name of exploring, the loophole is swallowing everything up.

There’s this certainty of a thousand versions of me but in it all , which is the true me?

Will finding and exploring the true me close that loophole and feeling lost or widen it and swallow me all?

All these thoughts keep swimming and dancing in my head.

A moment of realization.

I don’t know if I have actually found myself or lost myself in the process of finding me

What hurt the most is that there’s this version of me that I would never get to meet or explore.

There would always be this underlying doubt that if this is the version that reads you

What possibilities lie the those you haven’t lived

So do we keep searching and exploring till the end of it all our lives?