Introduction

I opened an old album the other day —
one I hadn’t touched in years.

Inside were versions of me
I forgot existed.

Smiling. Awkward. Wide-eyed.
So sure, yet so unaware of what was coming.

Some Photos Made Me Laugh Out Loud

Bad haircuts.
Worse outfits.
Eyes full of everything.

It felt like watching a friend grow up.
Only — that friend was me.

Other Photos Made Me Pause

Moments I thought I’d forgotten.
People I haven’t seen in forever.
Places that no longer feel real.

A younger version of me
believing in things I’ve since let go.

I Traced My Own Face With My Eyes

Wondering:
“Was I happy then?”
“Did I know what was happening?”
“Would that version of me recognize this one?”

And I smiled.
Because maybe I wouldn’t go back —
but I’m grateful I was there.

Sometimes I Scroll Newer Memories Too

Screenshots. Snapshots. Game-day selfies.
Even scores from matches I cared too much about.

I still check things on 우리카지노,
half-looking for the past in the present.

But the feelings are different now.
Less about proof.
More about reflection.

There Was a Photo of My First Apartment

A bad couch.
An even worse haircut.
But joy — so obvious.

I remember thinking I had everything.
Turns out, I kind of did.

Now and Then, I Save New Memories

A cup of coffee.
A page from my journal.
A win I didn’t see coming — even if it’s just a lucky score on 카지노사이트.

Because one day,
this moment will be worth revisiting too.

Conclusion

The past isn’t something we leave behind.
It’s something we carry —
frame by frame.

And every time I open that album,
I thank the person I used to be
for keeping the light on
until I got here.