Past self

Last week, I went clubbing. I know, it probably sounds very strange. It was a celebration for the 21st birthday of one of my close friends, who I also live with. At that point I don’t think I’d been out like that since the beginning of the academic year. I don’t like clubs and I never have done, but for my friend I was willing to put that aside and go out. It was okay in the end because since term has ended and most people have gone home for the summer it was pretty empty. My friends were pretty much the only people there, so it was much better than I expected it to be because one of the things I hate is all the crowded people.

Of course, I behaved myself. I drank but not too much, my skirt wasn’t too short and I just generally behaved myself. But I was reminded there of a person I used to be, a person I once was in that very same nightclub. That was when I drank far too much and my skirt was far too short and I most certainly did not behave myself. It was a long time ago but I’d on some level forgotten being that person. I wasn’t only reminded of what I was like all that time ago, but how far I’ve come and changed since then.

I had a good night for my friend’s birthday, and I genuinely enjoyed myself – aside from being in pain from my high-heels. But it reminded me that I never want to be the person I used to be again.


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