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.