I hated changes. I still do sometimes.
I remember the day my supposedly life plan was destroyed. It was broken pieces of what was once a beautiful crystal globe; a world pulverized.
I remember lying like a sick child on the couch for hours, days, weeks, and months. Avoiding anyone if necessary. Avoiding contacts. Looking down at my feet when others regarded me.
Becoming shy. Embracing lonely hours. Bidding social life farewell.
I was not always the person I am now. I was not always this little child laughing at life whenever she could.
I was not always the nerd who knew the names and histories of comic book heroes and heroines. I was not always the walking movie recap, not always the readily babbling TV critic.
I used to care, a lot more than I’d like to admit, about others, how they viewed me, how I was seen, and more of those unimportant matters.
I used to watch my tongue, in fear that I’d disappoint a lot of people who had an image of me planted in their minds. That when I became someone who’d be responsible over a child of her own, I had to present myself well.
But I had to let my old self go. It was the time of shock and trauma, being abandoned and finding myself lost without direction. When many people cope with friends, alcohol, or drowning themselves in traveling and passions, I lock myself away from the world.
Friends I listened to when they needed ears, decided to lock me out. It was always easier to receive than to give. All I could do was blame myself for being too weak to even need a listener.
I stopped looking in the mirror for a long time. I stopped brushing my hair altogether. I stopped filtering my words. I stopped holding in. I stopped thinking of high heels. I stopped looking at dresses I used to adore.
I started reading and watching anything that could distract me. I started shifting my interests. I drowned myself in other worlds. I started groping around, asking myself same questionnaires over and over again.
And the questions were of one big block of ice in the desert.
Because when your whole world failed, and you got nothing, you needed a reason to exist.
You needed a change.
And while asking myself the same sets of questions, I forgot the time and one day saw a person who looked nothing like the person I used to be. The mirror finally decided to visit me instead.
It surprised me with my own reflection.
I used to like the girl in the mirror. She had been beautiful, and to be honest, I’ve forgotten how she used to look like. Whereas nowadays, I get to look at a confused face, wondering how in the world she got to this place. Sometimes I wonder if I could go back to the same girl I used to be. But she was arrogant, cold, and heartless.
Was this a pleasant change?
I can’t even answer that.
But changes are necessary. When all ends burn, you start anew. And every new start comes with changes.
And perhaps this was for the better. Because if I remember the beautiful, strong girl in the mirror ages ago, I remember how she fell hard and crumbled.
So if she couldn’t make it, someone else would.
And perhaps, that someone else is the new girl I’ve been looking at in the mirror.