I’ve read [so far] this summer:
- Started the Gone-series by Michael Grant. Read Gone and Hunger, started Lies.
- Then I took a break by reading The Fault in our Stars by Jonathan Green.
- I continued the break from the Gone-series by reading One Hundred Names by Cecilia Ahern and Doña Maria by Cecilia Samartin.
- The bookstore recommended the first book of the colonial nineteenth-century saga In the Land of the Long White Cloud. I also bought [and read] My Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty.
- And before going to bed tonight I’m finishing The Unseen by Katherine Webb.
… and then came the long-awaited rain.
I used to be angry at the world but it hadn’t done me any harm. I was angry for no reason. I let music dictate my mood. I didn’t exactly listen to heavy metal and smile. Nowadays I do. Listening to the same music now reminds me of how far I’ve come. The countless obstacles I’ve conquered along the way.
My heart and head wasn’t in it today. All I managed to accomplish was some half-hearted intervals on the treadmill before my energy ran out and my body gave up.
I think I have to power of persuasion.
Late at night I lie in bed and listen to the rain. The gentle sound of rain hitting the window calms me down. Someone told me long ago, there’s a calm before the storm; I say there’s a calm during the storm. How I wish I could go for a run. But it’s a little too dark and a little too late. I should be asleep.
Maybe I’ll wish for rain tomorrow. Sing the opposite of Annie? The sun won’t come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be rain. Because then I can go out for a run in the rain. That’s life. That’s when all my troubles and worries magically disappear. Even if just for a little while.
Is it weird that I like the rain much better than the sun? That I like to run in rain instead of walking on sunshine? Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind a little sunshine either. But there will always be something special about the rain. Something magical. The rain has always held a special place in my heart. I have always loved the rain. I think there is some truth to the saying: you can’t have sunshine without a little rain. Or is it you can’t make a rainbow without a little rain?
Much has been said about rain. Countless research papers have much likely been written. And I get it; there is something about rain…
Is it weird that walking in rain makes her happy?
The day got off on the wrong foot but ended up being a good day.
Is being seen, the same as being understood? Can the words a person writes tell you something about who she is – has been? Do you judge her by the words she writes even though they describe something happening a long time ago? Maybe it’s only now, when it’s in the distant past, she’s able to write it down; ready to tell the world.
She doesn’t write for empathy. She writes so other people can understand where she comes from; why she is the girl she is today. Let people know where her insecurities come from. That no matter how much weight she has lost she still see her old self staring back in the mirror.
They told her it would get better when she got older. That as soon as people got over the teenage years they would stop. Did they? The words might have stopped coming, but what they had said in the past still stuck with her. Being grown up didn’t erase that. As she got older and the past more distant she has been able to leave it all behind. She’s able to let it all go. But it takes time. And time goes fast; too fast sometimes.
She doesn’t know how much weight she has lost in kilos or pound. The number on the scale isn’t everything. But she can see she’s different and she feels different. It’s easier to run; easier to lift weights. Just hurrying home in the rain is easier. She isn’t out of breath after walking three flights of stairs – she used to – but not anymore. She does CrossFit once a week, who would have thought?
Clothes fit her better. Some she has thrown away because they were just too big. Life isn’t a dark hole anymore. She has escaped. And instead of existing day by day; she’s living and making plans for the future. The pessimist is slowly becoming an optimist. It isn’t done overnight. It takes time. But time is moving forward; not backwards. She doesn’t live in the past anymore; she lives for the future.
She is me. I used to be broken. I used to be hurt. Now, I’m happy. Happy with who I’ve become and who I’m becoming. I’m not perfect but have realized that I never will be. I used to be a troubled soul; not anymore. I’ve realized that life is what you make of it. Happiness comes from within. I’m the maker of my own happiness. All I can do is aspire to become the best version of myself!
It had to come. The way I’ve been pushing myself lately I had to hit the wall, eventually. It would be a miracle if it was possible to keep going on the way I have.
Up at 6.30; coffee, breakfast and shower; be at the library by eight, preferably a few minutes before eight; study at the library until 5-6 o’clock; go home, change, eat a banana and then hit the gym; be at the gym for a few hours and have a kickass workout; go home, shower and eat dinner; then spend a few hours on the couch before bedtime.
Then you do it all over again the next day and the next until you reach the wall; until the day you hit the wall. The wall isn’t something you reach, it something hitting you in the face when you least expect it. It hits you at a time when you feel great but deep down you’re not. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, have ignored the signs and just kept going. On Friday I hit that wall. After nearly 10 hours in the library I broke down when I came home.
Luckily, there was music and there was rain. So I went for a walk. I think I cried a bit too but who saw? It might as well have been rain.
I love the rain. I love when the ground gets wet. I love that after a little rain you might get lucky and see a rainbow glisten. I love the little puddles; and the big puddles. I become a child again. I jump in them. I don’t care who sees me. I live in my own world which is a little bit crazy; a little bit weird; and a little bit normal. My world is awesome, sometimes. Other times I wish it wasn’t my world. Times when everything seems to go wrong; when the world seems to be against me. But it doesn’t happen that often anymore, that the world is against me and it doesn’t last for days like it used to. I like to think it has something to do with me finally being able to change my life for the better.
I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Still, when the clock struck twelve on New Year’s Eve I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed my life; fixed my world. I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed what was broken years ago; I decided that I wasn’t going to let it define me anymore. Because why let my past define who I am, when I’m clearly not that girl anymore? When it’s evident I’ve actually changed? And I’ve changed a lot; not just the four-five months since 2013 started but since I moved away from home four-five years ago. That’s when I started changing. It’s taken me awhile but I finally feel it. I finally feel the change.