Time is strange. It plods on, keeping a perfect tempo, yet we never perceive its even measures as they really are. Yesterday, it seems, was January, and these past few months have whipped by before I had a chance to notice they were here. And yet, the events of January and February and even March seem so hazy and dim, as though they happened millennia ago, that they may as well have happened to someone else. If the happenings of a mere month ago already seem like distant memories, how much more unreal are those which happened a year ago?
The events of a year ago really did happen to someone else. They happened to someone who was drowning in despair and loneliness, who was desperately counting down the days until she could escape this place and these people for somewhere else with someone else, who couldn't see far enough past her own dark wasteland to spare a thought for others or even remember who she was really supposed to be.
She was a bit like the protagonist from basically every RPG ever. You know, the one who wakes up with amnesia, no idea who she is or what she's supposed to be doing, only to be sent out on some grand, epic quest to save the world by an old bearded man. She had tunnel vision for the main storyline, chugging through tasks as fast as she could to get to the end goal, only wasting enough time leveling up as she had to, to survive.
I still remember the moment when she remembered who she was. It was like her hand suddenly grasped a life preserver, and she was able to raise her head about the churning sea and gasp for air.
This past year has seen the sun breaking out in streamers from between the dissipating clouds, the light bouncing like crystals off of the gentling waves. Speaking of, I think it's beautiful when light reflects off of water onto an overhanging surface and creates those dancing waves of light, but I digress.
The gameplay has completely changed. This person I am now is the kind of person who stops and talks to all of the NPCs repeatedly until she's sure she's heard everything they have to say. She takes every little side quest she can find and executes them with vigor. Okay, maybe not every side quest, but quite a few of them.
There's an incredible difference between me and that girl who was living in my skin a year ago. I hope it shows in my actions. I'm happier. The world is full of light and music and goodness. I'm not perfect at it yet, but I'm trying to think of myself less and others more. Most of my worry right now is for a few of my friends, who shall remain nameless because the crap they're going through is just that tough. I'm approaching the end of the semester and the beginning of summer at peace with all of creation. While I'm supremely looking forward to seeing my Missouri mates again, I'm leaving behind the promise to Arizona that I'll see it again in a few weeks.
This is me being abstract.
Listening to: Easy A
Reading: Falcondance by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes