Of course I miss those days. Especially because I knew I was more than qualified to could have shared the dreams some lived and are living. I loved it, and I was good at what I loved. I felt like I could breathe under water. The adrenalin rushed through my system, yet my senses got more acute as my heart fluttered in excitement. I was so sure I would settle in all that.
But the car took a turn, and I’m here. I find myself figuring things out as I left behind the things I had already figured out. And I miss the heyday, and it scares the crap out of me that I miss it. Did I make a wrong choice? Should I have just stayed and enjoyed the crops I had harvested? What if I was just full of myself to give up what I have earned and put myself out there again?
But that doubt and fright that revisit occasionally go away. And I get back on my feet and move forward, taking one baby step at a time to figure out not the whole plan, but what’s in front of me. Because as much as the road is cloudy, one thing is crystal-clear: it was me sitting in the driver’s seat when the car took the turn from a perfectly smooth path, to this bumpy and insecure one. So I set aside my meaningless doubts and move on. At least until the next time fear creeps back into my mind. I’ll figure something out for that then.