Stealing is my favorite hobby.

Well not stealing per say, adapting maybe.


I was going through another transition phase of my life – come to think of it, when are we as humans not transforming? Anyhow, I started thinking quite frequently about all the people I have crossed paths with, more specifically all those I have had feelings for, more often unrequited than not.

As those thoughts started becoming more and more frequent, I thought it might be loneliness causing the old flames to spark right back up, but the longer I thought about those feelings and tried to analyze them, the more I realized that they were less about the people I had dedicated them to and more about me reestablishing my sense of identity.

At that time, I was having a mini identity crisis or so to say and my brain kept bringing up memories of each person, trying to remind me of what I loved about them and how bit by bit that turned me into the person I am today. It was that identity crisis that helped me realize that each of these people helped me adapt traits I always admired about them and are now inseparable parts of me.

But the people who taught me so much were not always rays of sunshine. I learned to be grateful by the most ungrateful people I have crossed roads with. Watching them go through life with any sense of the surrounding others and thankfulness for people, life, and beauty made me realize that’s the one thing I could never let myself become. But I learned kindness by the purest angel to have ever walked on this earth. I learned kindness by warm hugs, long talks and hand holdings guiding me through my darkest nights.

I have little but memories in common with the me I was before I met any of these people yet I do not believe I changed my identity trying to become someone they could like. I believe I was attracted to them because of those traits which were always compatible with my personality.

I believe we build our identities and personas as we go and the more we love one person or the closer we are to them, the bigger the footprint they leave behind on our canvases of creation.

Turns out I was not missing any of my exes, ex-crushes, or even ex-objects of obsession *cough* every powerful middle-aged woman on the history of TV *cough*, but I was actually finally understanding the lessons each so subtly taught me. More importantly I learned that each feeling I have felt towards them I have managed to multiply by a hundred and dedicate it towards myself, the me I have been continuously and unconsciously working on.


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