Change

Sometimes change is subtle, sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It slowly creeps in and makes itself comfortable before you even realize it is there happening to you. I feel like this change, the bad change,  is the sneaky kind. You never hear anyone complaining about the good changes.

It is like everything is fine one minute and different the next. You can't be quite sure when it happened or even what happened. You just know things aren't the same. I have a memory of how things were. If there is one thing I am good at it, it is remembering. This is a past-time that could consume me. The phrase "remember when.." is one I say and think often. My memories are precious and when things change I feel like part of them is taken. Stolen away from me, lost forever.

There have been some unwelcome changes I have learned to accept. It is not this change that I worry about. It is the slowly but surely change that finds its way in to the nooks and crannies of my life. The things that once were are not anymore. The sweet moments are less and less, changing a little here and there. It is this change that makes me uncomfortable in my own skin. It makes my heart race and my stomach ache. It is the kind of change you keep telling yourself isn't happening, only because you know in your heart it is. It is stealing my memories. My perfect moments.

It is said change is inevitable. That you will die trying to stop things from changing. I am wondering at what point do the things changing around you actually change you? Change who you are and what you feel. Once it starts sneaking in and stealing what's yours can you get it back? Can you steal your moments back and save them, stopping these changes from becoming reality? I hope so.

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