I rummage through my closet and pull out my box of old journals I take out 3 journals filled with memories I’ve forgotten and pain I’ve suppressed I sit at my desk taking a sip of my hot coffee before I begin my trip down memory lane I leaf through the thoughts and feelings of another person as it’s been so long since I wrote these words I feel disconnected oddly aloof from my old self “it wasn’t supposed to be like this” is the thought that runs through my mind as I read words my past self wrote 3 years ago, 2 years ago, a year ago all my journal entries narrate the pain I’ve endured the grief I still hold in my heart there is no sign of victory in those pages, no telling if any of it was worth it no light at the end of the tunnel I realize how much help I needed that I never received I hid my pain from the rest of the world, thinking if no one could see it maybe it would go away I see that pushing it down inside myself just made it more lodged in my heart now I’m more lost than ever I’ve never healed no one ever taught me how to and I still don’t know what it feels like to not be broken I look up from the messy handwriting knowing my words will haunt me at night I regret opening up these journals I regret remembering with tears still in my eyes I pick up my coffee cup but it has now gone cold and isn’t worth drinking anymore.