I'm a little bit of a wanderer.
There have been times when I had a destination in mind. There were also times when I couldn't get my feet of the ground. I've felt heavy like I was under a thousand feet of ocean water. I've flown away like a piece of dust burning under the sun. I've been swayed like the spray of spring rain dancing in the arms of the wind.
I have been a lot of things. It's strange to call those images of my past self 'me.' I am the girl who cried on the stairs of her family's apartment waiting for her father. I am the girl who complained about the heat at band camp and then was missing for a semester and a half. I am the girl who shared a thin cloth for a blanket with her family in an unheated room during the coldest days of that winter season. I am the girl who cried on the shoulders of other people but felt uncomfortable when others cried in front of her. That girl is me. Yet I can't say confidently that I am that girl now.
I sometimes lose sight of who I am. I'm still unsure of who this girl is. She's a stranger. She's a mystery. I don't know how she works. I don't know how she thinks. But she is the only thing I'll ever be.
I'm still searching for answers. I don't know when I'll find them. If I'll ever even come close to finding them.
I'm still grasping. I'm still holding on.
I'm still here.
She's still here.