The Versions I’ve Been

I: We barely talk. Whatever that’s supposed to mean these days. You know what I think now? Maybe I stopped writing because being alone didn’t drain me like opening up did. Maybe I’ll write again, maybe just so the noise inside has somewhere else to go. We shift just to keep going. Or to stop breaking, I guess. Some days I don’t even know if I’m drained or just at peace with the heaviness.

II: There was a time I got scolded for not knowing how to tell time. Now I can’t just say what time it is, because I end up explaining how the whole clock works. That’s how I process the world now. I didn’t exactly sit down one day and decide on a passion. It started with a simple question, “Why?” Then came “How?” And the more I asked, the less content I found in the answers given. So I filled in the gaps myself. I’d always thought that way, but I didn’t realize it until later.

 

III: Every now and then, I catch myself laughing, like why did I even like half the stuff I used to? Back then, I must’ve been picking things blindfolded. I mean, come on, who was I trying to be? A lost cast member from Romeo and Juliet?