i've a thing for going through my archives. doesn't matter that i wrote them myself, or that i can still remember some of the details in my stories. archives, i believe, have a way of soothing one's soul.

i began blogging two years and two months ago. i was 25 and in a very rocky relationship, if you could call it a relationship at all. i relied on my mom for transportation on weekends and have been declared by my dad as officially incapable of learning how to drive. i was brutally honest with my writing, not caring at all who read my blog, and shamelessly criticized my job, people i didn't like, and the world in general. my male best bud was still alive, my best girl friend was still single, and i had two perfectly functioning ovaries.

here i am, two years later. i may have lost some important people in my life, but i've gained friends i never would have met had it not been for the internet. i've learned what online journal meant -- tastefully choosing what to write and editing out what you won't and can't say in polite company. i've loved and lost, loved and lost, and loved and lost but i still believe in finding the one.

two years that would have gone unnoticed had it not been for the archives. two years that i may have chosen to delete from my memory and refuse to admit even to myself.

however, they're all there, in my archives.