Missing Me

I miss myself. I miss the old me. I miss the way I was.

I miss the sound of my hearty laugh whenever I feel giddy inside. I miss the sparkle in my eyes when I catch myself staring at the mirror. I miss the warmth of my voice as I hear myself talk. I miss the dreams that lingers in my memory when I wake up in the middle of the night. I miss the self that I've come to know and care for. I miss being that person.

I don't know when i stopped being me. I don't know if it happened gradually, without me knowing that every sunset changes me, or if it happened overnight without me knowing that I'm suddenly different. But most of all, I don't know how to get it all back.

Unlike most people, I changed for the worse. I'm different, but not in a good way. I'm different and I'm not happy. Turning into who I am today is not something to be proud of. I don't like me anymore.

I don't like the dryness I hear whenever I chuckle. I don't like the tears that mingles on my lids. I don't like the lines that I see when I face the mirror. I don't like the acid that drips from my tongue. I don't like the emptiness I feel when I wake up from my sleep. I don't like the person I've suddenly become.

I don't know the person I am. I don't know who I'm with anymore. I don't know where I'm going to. I don't even remember that special place I've been from. Instead of finding who I am, I lost all sense of self. I'm lost.