I once wrote an allegory about a princess.
It was at the beginning of freshman session at the Honors College Retreat. I was a slightly bitter afraid international student, walking around with an ache I couldn't name. And I had no idea, At the time at least.
The story was written in my journal and I discovered it some days ago. I no longer feel that way but reading that story was visceral, ringing me right back to when I write that down. But it's better now, I'm better now and now the hopeful ending of that allegory takes on a whole new meaning and depth in my life.
This isn't the first time writing in a journal has helped me like that. In my gap year, I discovered my ~junior high~ journal that I wrote in practically every day. All the memories of that time came rushing back in snapshot and scenes, all the laughter, and friends, and aches and joys cascading all at once.It's nice to have an anchor to who you were and what you felt in the past. Memory is a fickle unsure thing and ink is not. The distance between who you were and who you are is made of precious reflection and I'm glad to provide that for future me.
YOU ARE READING
The Ability To Even (Collegiate Chronicles)
Non-FictionNot everything goes according to plans. Lessons and family and life teach you so much as it all swings about. I'm just trying to figure this all out. Join me?
