Transitional phase

This is the phase that no one talks about in speeches and biographies. And if they do, it’s often romanticized, and by the end of the book, it’s a distant memory while basking in the glory of your accomplishments, after you’ve “arrived.”

This is the phase when the things that happened in the past don’t matter as much anymore because you need something good to happen in the here and now.

This is the phase when you see glimmers of light and pray that you didn’t misread the signs, that the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t an oncoming train about to crush you.

This is the phase when I remember why I don’t write anything during phases like these, why there are big gaps in my diary. I don’t really want to remember this feeling and relive the pain. I know it will hurt a little to read a few months/years from now, whether because it was as bad as I thought it was, or because in the big scheme of things it was trivial and realizing that I wasted time worrying about it when I could’ve been doing other productive things.