What hurts the most is that you don't know when you changed.

I didn't notice the change in myself…

There wasn't a specific day when I said, “This is where I started to change.”

Everything happened quietly,
slowly and imperceptibly,
as if life was gently pulling something away from me… without me realizing it.

I thought I was still the same,
carrying the same dreams,
thinking the same way,
and possessing the same passion.

But in a moment of honest self-reflection,
I asked:
“When did I become so burdensome?”

When did everything start requiring effort?

Even the things I used to love…
I started postponing them for no reason.

When did I lose my enthusiasm?

When did I start… and then stop?

And when did fear become stronger than desire?

I didn't lose myself suddenly…
I lost myself in very small details.

When I said, “Not now”… and abandoned a dream that needed only one more step.

When I preferred temporary comfort…
to real progress.

When I allowed negative thoughts
to linger in my mind… without resistance.

And when I convinced myself that I would “go back to how I was”…
But I didn’t.

The painful truth?

I didn’t change…
I just drifted away from myself,
step by step.

But the beautiful thing is…
that the path I took away,
I can return by.

Perhaps I won’t be exactly the same…
But I can be better.