There I stood....in front a mirror.....is that me? REALLY? Who is that girl? Now why, why did she do that, Why is she pretending to be you...I asked myself..The way she..NO the way I ... spoke ...acted ...walked ...reacted...it was so foreign to me...I didn't even know myself anymore. I allowed myself...to lose myself as I forced myself to believe that it was for the greater good. Ok let me stop... I am confusing myself...I am confusing you....

A short while ago...I was in a state of extreme infatuation...I thought that I knew that I was in love..or in like or something of that nature....So i changed...adapted...survival of the fittest...that's what life's about righttt? I desperately wanted to be all he wanted and so i gradually found that i had "adapted" so much to being who he wanted me to be that I could scarcely recognise myself anymore. Saying things, doings things that I never did before... for someone that was so obviously not worth it... and then it ended..as quickly as he came, he left. Undeniably, it was inevitable...i'm surprised it lasted as long as it actually did.

But the challenge was...after he left...and took with him ALL that he took from me...what was left...who was I? There I was...confused, hurt, heartbroken and I was not even aware of who I was! It's one thing to deal with heartbreak but it's a completely different situation trying to restore a heart and a mind and a soul that do not even feel like they belong to you. I felt like a stranger to myself; physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

My passions- gone. My inner thoughts- lacking. My coping mechanisms- non-existent. I searched within. It's true...to write is my real passion and for the entire period that i was "that other person" I did not write, I did not blog, I really really was just a mere fragment of all that I used to be.

His words, those harsh, grave words...transformed themselves into much more than mere words..knives-that's what they were...they reverberated...the scars remained for so long a time, I can't even tell. And now, that this person just walked out, I was left to deal with me...someone I seemed to barely know. Someone whose life..to me..seemed a lie. Someone who cried....and I..I couldnt understand why...Someone who tried...for much longer than she should have tried. I struggled to resurrect the me that I used to be. I endeavoured, tried endlessly to reconnect with my former self. I allowed myself to be convinced that I needed him to be happy. I let him manipulat me, cajole me, control me, deride me and this was my supposed happiness. I refused to walk away because he promised me "HAPPY DAYS". The me I was before..was a truly "HAPPY ME"...but somehow...this complex yet simplistic; predictable yet unexpected human nature of ours often makes us believe that to truly be happy as defined by images imposed upon us we need to have another half, a partner, someone else.

But i realise, I'd really prefer to be singly and wholly me and complete, than to be part of a "couple" and be a broken, fragmented, barely recognisable shadow of myself.

So now, I am tasked with finding me..restoring me. Remembering the things I used to do that made me happy. The things that made me smile. My interest, my passions. The way i onced laughed and the immense joy that writing brought me. And the thrills I felt, speaking the languages of other lands, things that he, the one who gave me "happy days" never allowed me to do.  And so with each day that passess, and each time I stand in front the mirror, or each time i introspect and silently question.. ME? I quietly admit... No that's still not you...but hunny you're getting back there...and I triumphantly smile.