"What have I become? Something soft and really quite dumb, because I've fallen, oh, 'cause I've fall- fallen, oh 'cause I've fall-fall-fallen so far away from the place where I started from." ("Die Alone," Ingrid Michaelson)
Last week, I spent about an hour reading, browsing, perusing, and reminiscing by looking through old scrapbooks and photo albums that my mother made when I was little. I looked at the photos of me as a newborn, an infant, a baby, a toddler, and I found myself in a confused state of tears. Surely I am not crying because I miss this, I thought, for I don't believe that anybody can truly yearn to relive these years as there are no mistakes nor regrets to fix. I spent some time thinking about it, and this is what I realized: I apologize, past me; I am so, so sorry to the young Ashley who used to hold high hopes for herself. I have taken each and every one of my young desires and goals and shattered them all, unknowingly. I could not stop thinking about how disappointed young Ashley would be if she met me. For too long I have consistently told myself "I am the same person I was yesterday." Clearly, this is not the case. Young Ashley, I am so sorry. My life is not over yet, and I know I still have room for change and years of potential achievement/accomplishment, but nevertheless I regret and apologize.
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