It has been exactly two years since everyone in my life lost the version of me I had worked so hard to bring to life.
Many good people have stuck by me. New friends claim I’m perfect the way I am and that they are honored to know me now, as someone who has gone through shit and still standing.
The issue is while I am standing I have done nothing more than merely exist for a very long time.
It’s hard to explain what happened, as so many little things hurt me and imperceptibly molded me into a version of myself I don’t recognize — or have at least caused me to forget what I used to be like.
It’s as though I’ve collapsed around my heart, fiercely protecting it from everyone and everything because I simply do not trust anyone else with it.
If you’re here looking for the old me, know that I’m looking for her too. In the process I hope to take better care of who I am now, so I can nurture her back to being the optimistic, witty, laugh-hard, love-harder version of myself Cody fell in love with years ago. And maybe I can learn to let people in again. And maybe help someone who has lost themselves as well.
It’s a terrible feeling, losing oneself and trying to start over before all the rubble has been cleared.
I know writing has always been a part of me, and hopefully by bringing it back it will serve as breadcrumbs for the rest of me to follow.