Chapter 3: Stay In The Middle

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[ DATE: 7/30/2032 ]

As they all say, time is the best healer.

"New day, new me.."

And I suppose that statement also held true to me to some degree. It just seemed as if time had its way of changing things - albeit in a manner that often fluctuated, like how my own world always shifted from highs to lows.

Sometimes, it felt like things were rushing by in the blink of an eye - other times, life gave off the impression that it was crawling to a halt.

"You got this - right, self..?"

Either way, what I was absolutely sure of though was how much of a conscious effort I've made to regain a grip on myself and my life - having taken what appeared to be the right steps in reconnecting to the world I had long distanced myself from.

So, even in the span of just a month since the unexpected and sentimental reunion with my old high school friends, things.. changed - for the better.

"An alumni gathering, really?"
???: "I mean, it wouldn't hurt to try, no? Besides, you'll see so many of our old pals, hehe!"
"Ah.. Well, if you put it like that, then I suppose I have no choice, hah."

I found myself beginning to attend all sorts of events and gatherings, pushing myself to become more social, more open, more outgoing - no matter how draining it was, knowing that it was for my own betterment.

"No way.. THOSE are my savings?! WOW!"

My aspirations also led to me deciding to step up and search for better job opportunities, eventually landing a writing position at a decently reputable news outlet that paid a lot, lot more than my previous dead-end job.

Most importantly, I also started taking better care of myself, both physically and mentally - even if it was in the tiniest of changes, persisting with the belief that the progress counted as I noticed the slight improvements appearing with each passing day.

Alas, with each small step, I felt like I was inching closer and closer to recovery - returning to the person I used to be, and striving more and more to become the person I had always hoped to be.

"I'm.."

But still.

"I'm tired, damnit.."

- I would be lying if I said that the frustration of the journey never got to me.

That's right, even with almost everything turning out as planned, I still played the world's tiniest violin - finding reasons to complain and loathe.

Funnily enough, I'd find out that the pain of sulking and overthinking in my bedroom was nothing compared to the constant irritation of slow progression.

Sure, I knew it would take time, a LOT of time, to rebuild the life I had given up on - but some old habits simply die hard, and like the younger me, I couldn't help but yearn for more too quickly.

Such impatience meant that that annoying itch more than often overshadowed the improvements I had made in my life. I knew things could still be better, and it hurt like a thorn in my side.

"Where did I put that notebook again.. Aha!"

Granted.. there was still a goal I had in mind, a goal that was not only a project that I believed to be my big break - but also me upholding my self-written promise to the girls of NewJeans, who have pulled me out of a rut twice now.

Of course, this goal was none other than to successfully publish the book that I had been planning even before NewJeans disbanded - a literary work that I had now decided to dedicate to them and their journey, following the tale of a fictional sixth member of theirs.

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