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Change is supposed to be good. It’s supposed to help you grow and be a better version of yourself. I changed a lot, but not in the way I’d hoped. I used to be so excited about everything, and by everything, I mean all that there is— all the stupid little things: waking up early because I get to see the sunrise, drinking my coffee because I get to use the hazelnut creamer, walking to my car because I get to see my neighbor pass by with their dog, getting to work because my colleagues are also my friends. I used to be carefree... happy. Now, I’m this weightless shell who’s just so tired of everything. I’m tired of getting out of bed, I’m tired of replying to people with anything longer than a syllable or two, of watching TV, of everything. I’m not happy, but I’m not sad either. I’m just there. The crazy thing is I lead one of those “perfect lives.” I have a loving family, a great job, and amazing friends. What more could I need?
I just want that excited-about-the-simplest-things person back. I miss her. I miss her every day.
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