Today, I've realised that I've been quite an immature kid over the last past few months. Why? I decided to read randomly selected posts today. Posts that I've written over the course of this year, last year, and the years before that. In some I detect pity, in others I detect pride- pride for childish things that now make me laugh at how I was so proud of them. And some make my heart ache- ache for those lost memories which will dissolve in details as the time passes. In some ways this is a good thing; we cannot undo the past. But perhaps learning from those lessons, rather than forgetting them, proves to be a better teacher.

Perhaps I've grown over the course of these few months. The harsh reality of life. The pain that ran deep, but it was not because of blood. The tears that were shed, but it was not because of sadness. The realisation that struck, but it was not because of fear.

I was immature then.