Learning and Unlearning

Why the sudden urge to write, after so many years of the pen and paper lying idle? What is this that drives me to put my thoughts between these pages?
For one, there's Change. The only constant in life is change. This change hasn't always been for the better. There are so many regrets, so many moments written off in the past as Fate, so many faces and places lost in the memory, yet so many of them too hard to let go.
My childhood, my Wonder Years. Growing up without a care in the world. The greatest dilemma being which flavour of ice cream to have for dessert. Life was simple, then life changed. Evolution, growing up, becoming more responsible, independence, whatever else it may be called, the fact still remains. In time, we learn. Life lessons imprinted on the mind. Footsteps on a seashore that leave a mark, only to be washed away and remade. Constantly learning and unlearning. Swinging back and forth like an Old Clock's pendulum.
Who am i really? An optimist, a pessimist, a cynic, a believer, the friend and lover or a soul imprisoned behind frozen walls? Facing an identity crisis as I'm forced into corners and made to relearn thinking processes just because I woke up one day and realized that the World isn't what I thought it to be.
Like fuel to an emblazoned fire, there are all these clashing thoughts! I've always wanted to be free and not be tied down by any mortal force. I am also seeking this permanence, be it with friends, family or love. But is it possible to Love so dearly yet be free enough to just get up and leave?
Detachment was my only weapon when it came to dealing with the world. No, I'm not a loner. I like people, as long as there is a certain invisible distance between me and the rest. The Heavy Curtain hung separating the girl that every one knew and the girl locked up inside the heart never to be revealed. I was scared that if people saw the real me, they may not like what they see.
Of late, I let my guard down, enough to let a certain few look behind that curtain. Surprisingly, they did not run. They were not scared or let down or more importantly, they did not judge.
But is this risk worth taking? Is it really worth trusting? Trust-an emotion that was as foreign to me as living in an Igloo. But here I am, caring, loving and trusting. Feeling open, disarmed and vulnerable. Reading my Dusty Old Journals i realized it was something I longed and hoped for back then. Now that i have it all, why does it scare me? What is it i fear?


(an extract from the first page of my Journal)