I read past posts and think of how articulate I seemed. I was deep and profound and interesting and wise. I’d like to go back and taste whatever air I was breathing and swallow it past my teeth and my tongue and then spot it back out in poetry and prose. I miss growing. Moving forward. Being someone. Someone who felt deeply and didn’t sneer at her need to be different. To be changed after a challenging period. I guess I just miss getting to know more about me.