It’s
funny how blogs are left dormant in two situations – either nothing is going on
in your life or too much is going on. The latter is true in my case.
What have I been preoccupied with for the past month or so? We-e-l-l, packing
the last ten years of my life into two suitcases with a weight limit of 50 lbs
each, for one thing. Your friendly neighborhood neurotic has left the city she
has called home for over ten years to go live on the opposite hemisphere of the
earth. If on a globe you stuck a (long) needle through Cebu and pushed it all the way through to the
other side, you’d be in the general longitude of where I am now. What am I
doing here, you ask? I ask myself the same question.
I’m
at the cusp of a new period in my life and it’s terrifying. Change always
terrifies me. And this is pretty big. I feel like this is the point where I
should finally forgive myself for all the stupid mistakes I've made in the past
(by commission or ommission) and start anew. But there’s that nagging thought
in the back of my head that tells me I can’t just wipe the slate clean. There
are consequences and repercussions of past mistakes that affect me to this day.
Consequences. Despite my age, I feel like I still need to fully understand the
meaning of that word. There are a number of things I wish I could have done
differently in the past. I was so immature, I didn’t think about the future and
the simple idea that what you do (or don’t do) today will affect you tomorrow.
But, you know… spilt milk. Now I can only hope to prove that the past doesn’t
have to define my future.
