hindsight.

There's a tiny scar on my right hand. It's about an inch long and sometimes you can only see it when the light hits a certain way. It blends right into my skin, just a mild imperfection on my hand. It keeps fading, but I know it's never really going anywhere.

I remember exactly how I got the scar. It was my 20th birthday and I ran upstairs and pulled my bangle off my wrist and proceeded to scratch the back of my hand with my nail. I remember laughing and thinking it was no big deal, just a scratch. 

Every time I look at my hand I see manicured nails, the odd papercut, and that damn scar. I see everything that's happened in the past two years; the good, more bad, and even more of the completely unexpected. I can never quite get a handle on where my life is supposed to be. It looks like I've never been able to.

I keep finding myself falling back into old patterns. Staying up till 5 and going to work at 10. Apathy, disinterest, being increasingly annoyed by everything around me, blaming everyone but myself for my shortcomings. 

The problem is I pick my scars, both literally and figuratively. I can run over everything in my mind millions of times and never change a thing, and I really need to accept that and let it be.

...but if you can't let it be might as well make it bleed.