I recent­ly renewed my con­tract with my cur­rent host for anoth­er year of ser­vice. I’m a lit­tle sur­prised that this page has­n’t fall­en into desue­tude over the last year. I sup­pose it’s only now, at 22, that I’m able to find mean­ing in almost all aspects of my life, that I have enough to write about. My pre­vi­ous sev­en or so pages have been rather emp­ty, although there was more vari­ety in the con­tent. I don’t think I’ve ever had a lay­out last this long.

It’s usu­al­ly when I have a neg­a­tive emo­tion that I’m able to write, but the last year has been a series of ups and downs, although most­ly ups, and con­sid­ered to be more sta­ble than pre­vi­ous years. Sometimes I can read back on pre­vi­ous entries and re-expe­ri­ence the emo­tion I was feel­ing at the time of writ­ing them. I’m sur­prised that I’m not embar­rassed about some entries, how rawly I’d express myself, and what I was think­ing at the time. I find that I’m usu­al­ly embar­rassed by how igno­rant, stu­pid, and idi­ot­ic a per­son I used to be. Aaron explains to me, of course, that it’s all just a mea­sure of how far I’ve come, but it’s some­times it’s dif­fi­cult to think of what I was like and not feel shame.

I remem­ber the nights I spent, after all class­es were fin­ished, com­ing home, cook­ing a meal, tak­ing a show­er, all I’d have left was to sit in front of my glow­ing mon­i­tor and write. When all I want­ed, at the end of the day, was to be able to turn the lights out, write until my eyes felt too tired to focus, and go to sleep sat­is­fied. I’m not sure if I remem­ber those nights fond­ly or not.

And per­haps there are more to come.

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