proof i was here

lately, i’ve been thinking about all the versions of myself i’ve left behind. the kid who thought life would start once he got older. the teenager who was convinced he had everything figured out. the young adult who thought every heartbreak would be the last one.

i don’t miss them exactly. but i think about them.

i think about the people too. the ones who stayed. the ones who left. the ones who arrived unexpectedly and changed something without ever realizing it.

a friend who showed me how to make noodles. someone who made me a playlist i still listen to. a girl who convinced me to try sushi. the friend who introduced me to indian food and ruined every other curry for me.

the funny thing is, most of them probably have no idea they’re still with me. not in a sad way. just in the way people become part of you.

a phrase they used. a habit you picked up. a song you still play when you’re cleaning your room.

i used to think growing up meant becoming your own person. now i think it’s the opposite. i think growing up is realizing you’re made up of hundreds of people. family. friends. strangers. lovers. teachers. the random person you met on a trip and never saw again.

they all leave something behind. and maybe that’s why i don’t regret much anymore. even the things that hurt. because every disappointment taught me something. every friendship gave me something. every goodbye changed me in some small way.

a few weeks ago, i was on holiday, walking through streets i had never seen before, talking to people who knew nothing about my past. and for a moment, i felt incredibly small. not insignificant. just small in the best possible way.

the world is so much bigger than my worries. bigger than my mistakes. bigger than the things that keep me awake at night.

there are still cities i haven’t seen. foods i haven’t tried. people i haven’t met yet. conversations waiting to happen. stories still looking for me. and that’s comforting.

i don’t know what’s next. i don’t know who i’ll become in five years. i don’t know which friendships will last and which memories will fade. but for the first time in a long time, i think I’m okay with not knowing. maybe life was never meant to be solved. maybe it’s just meant to be lived. messily. fully. one ordinary day at a time.

and if this is my last driftletters post for a while, then i don’t want it to be a goodbye.

i want it to be a thank you. to the people who stayed. to the people who left. to the versions of me that somehow made it here. to the strangers who became stories. to life itself.

because despite everything, despite all the confusion and detours and heartbreaks and unanswered questions, i got to be here. i got to love. i got to learn. i got to see a little bit of the world. and honestly, that’s enough. it’s proof that i was here.