I was reading some old journals a few nights ago. It's so hard to read through them and remember the moments and feelings of those years. I wish I could say I'm far away from the person who wrote those words, but I'm not. I have the same insecurities, the same fears, the same pain. I guess I also have to remember that I have the same hopes, desires and heart. I can't help but wonder who I will be when I read this in 4 years. My guess is the same. Exactly the same.
There is something comforting in that.