Blasts from my past

It's hard to move on, out of a life I lived for 18 years. Finding out over and over again those years that it keeps happening... It was killing me. I need to leave to survive. To preserve the part of me that was genuine and free. As I move forward out of the old place and into the new one I had to do lots of house cleaning. Filtering through the pictures, letters, notes that got shoved away. These are the reminders of who I was to others, and a reminder of who I am to me. True to my nature, finding myself again requires I see the past. I had forgotten the relationships I was able to experience. The days of being young, free, innocent to love and secure in my existence are refined by experience.  So, here, I share those times with you through their eyes. Here is one that saw me for what I could give.