I remember her.

Confused. Lonely. Dazzled.

Walking through the world skeleton first.

Dark and moody.

I don't want to forget her.
I don't want to be her either.

When you trawl through your history you remember your youth like a jewel. Like anything it's tumbled and polished over time and it looks cleaner and more precious than it really was.

I don't want to do that. I want to remember what it was.
Gritty, messy and dark.

It was the foundation for where I am now.

Once I was milk crates and planks of wood. Musicians and writers.

Now I'm Ikea and shiny cars. Children and scribble on the walls.

Nothing's changed. I'm the same - only the world around me has evolved.

I'm still here. Kind of.

The past couple of years have been fuller than I thought I would ever cope with. There you go. I'm a mum.

My days are completely swallowed by the work I have to do. The challenges and the frustrations of trying to be me in the middle of being someone everyone else needed me to be.

And the years pass like a long sigh. You don't even notice they're disapearing.

One day, you wake up again and it's almost as if you'd been asleep the whole time. You've missed nothing, you've had a full life.

Just.... you weren't consciously part of it.

Life's easier when you don't try too hard to live it.