I lived for myself. I didn’t have to think about where else I needed to be or what else I needed to do. It wasn’t hard to make me happy. I was happy just at the chirp of a bird or maybe a sincere smile in passing

I wasn’t always like this, you know? I once lived without any walls. I used to care about the little things that don’t seem to matter anymore - like admiring the colour of trees against the sky, the sound of rain, and the smell of dew. I took strolls simply to have intimate moments with nature.

I loved getting to know people; I loved company. Every time I came across a person, I was curious to know their story, the ones that define them, the ones they laugh about and the ones that brought them pain.

I used to dance like no one’s watching. I’d dance to announce my mood and renew my spirit. I used to sing my heart out, always feeling it in the depths of my soul. I’d sing to make my feelings known.

But somehow, with time, I lost myself. I mask my bitterness with fake smiles and live under another’s shade, wondering what’ll happen if they turned away?

It’s been long since I thought about the person I was. Maybe someday, someone will make me want to go back to my old being. Maybe it’s not just about who you are when you’re being yourself, it’s also about who you can be that person with.