I’ve been going through a phase of guilt.

The things I’ve liked doing, I’ve stopped.

I’ve stopped music.

I’ve stopped dancing.

I’ve just stopped everything.

Anything I’ve started in the last five years, I haven’t finished or continued with.

And I keep going through that cycle of starting and stopping. I start playing or moving, and I remember how good I was. And then the guilt of stopping kicks in. I think the source is knowing that I’d be better now, if I hadn’t stopped. Cause maybe secretly, having a life filled with the stuff I like sounds truly great. If not a job, just to be enveloped in it all the time.

I could tumble endlessly into the excuses of why I keep quitting. Yes, life happens. Yes, responsibilities increase. Yes, time moves on, waiting for nobody.

When I was in school, I remember running into adults who said phrases like, “I used to do…” or “I used to be great at…” And I remember thinking that that could never happen to me. And that I would do everything to avoid living that way.

But don’t get me wrong.

I haven’t stopped fighting for the things I want.

But you know what?

In order to fight, you have to know your cause.

And I think I’ve temporarily lost it.

The whole “I’m lost!” thing really sticks sometimes.