I looked at what I wrote many years ago and thought that they’re really cool, though some of them make me cringe now. I wonder what was I thinking and what was I feeling when I was writing each of them. They just don’t feel familiar. It feels like reading someone else’s writings. I don’t feel like I know me-ed. It’s strange. I miss me-ed, the girl who loves to pen down her thoughts and expressing herself with words. I want to know her. I want to know what it feels like to be her. It feels like I lost her somewhere along the way or forgotten her like how Woody’s owner had forgotten him. It’s just poof and here we are, total strangers. What happened? I bet she didn’t see this coming. I am almost unrecognizable. But thank you Dash and Lily, I probably shouldn’t start a sentence with but, I promise I’m gonna change that. It feels good to be back.