Have you ever missed you?

Have you ever missed you? The person you once were, so full of life and happiness.

Did you ever miss what you used to stand for, what you used to represent, the ideals you once hold dear?
At any point did you look at an old photo and though, what happened? Were have I gone to? Where is the person staring back at me in that picture?
And I'm not talking about for ever lost moments like the days of youth now gone by, I'm talking about your spirit, your free will. I'm talking about something that can be remade, rebuilt, despite all the time it may take.

I miss me.

 I'm a shell of my former self, no longer driven by the ideals i held so dear, no longer fuelled by the passion in my soul for the new, for the discovery, for the unknown.

What I am now is lost and alone. Buried deep in my fortress of solitude, withering the days away.

I miss me more than I can tell in words.

My eyes keep watering while my fingers keep striking the keyboard in front of me. All this time I have been looking for what I was missing without ever knowing what that was. I searched so far and wide I ended up lost and alone, in a foreign land, in a foreign place.

I tend not to believe in fate, I believe we are the sum of all our choices and consequences, with all the experience, good and bad that comes from it. So instead of saying the universe put me on this path I believe my mind was the one pulling the strings.

I am not the one doing the search, I am the one that is missing, the part of me that aches is not because it was missing something, it simply never was part of the it. Not yet at least.

So the other me, the one that is out there, the one that every now and again came a bit closer to the surface of my being, the one who keeps staring at me from the other side of those moments, he is the one searching. Searching for this part of me that now types away in this page.

It's funny, it's those little moments in life, those when and where you least expect them, that sometimes brings the path to the conclusion of the chapter.

And if my mind felt that for me to ever comprehend what it is like to feel whole, to belong, to hold something dear, I needed to go trough all of this chaos, I understand.

I hold no grudges, not anymore, I hold no misguided conceptions of value or worth. I just want to make the right choices, the right choices to me , to what feels I have to do to return from this barren place.

I miss me, and I am ready to go home.