With a pencil in my hand, on a paper I begin this scrawl... a paper from a book which was until a recent past, singed with memoirs of yester-years; replete with grave mistakes and painful choices. I sit here today, having removed proof of most of my errors. Why I had stored memories away, to begin with, baffled me when I undertook the task of reading things which seemed to have been forgotten with time. Letters which in their time evoked streams of joy, anticipation, fear... seemed to have lost their marvel when I sat reading them, before I ripped them up - piece by piece - and calmly piled them into a trash bag; stuffing bags through their seams by the time every piece was removed. I was left clutching on to scattered bits of memories, as they had been stirred into an awakening unplanned and unpleasant - I coerced myself and hurried to lay them all to rest as I prayed upon my Lord for whom I had forsaken everything and by Whose Grace I had been living since; saved from any more grief that could be perceived by a wanting soul - of then and now. I seem to find myself at a fork in the road, where I hope to lay the dead to rest and finally find a peace permanent. Part of me wishes that I could go back to a better part of me that existed then and merge it with the better part of me that exists today... Alas, this is not to be, for if wishes were horses then beggars would surely ride. With this adage in mind, I hope the best part of me is not entirely lost, but remains somewhere preciously safe... patiently waiting to be properly found a final time around... insha'Allah; Ameen!