We Burn Differently Now

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Dear Diary...


A 19 year old came to say hi today, She walked into the room quietly. She didn’t smile, didn’t rush to hug me like she once would. She just looked around like she didn’t know if she was welcome here anymore.

And then, with this almost childlike confusion, she asked, "So… how many friends do we have now?"

I knew why she asked. Back then, the more people who liked her, the more she felt she mattered. I put my phone down gently something I didn’t do for her often enough. I turned to look at her, really look at her, and said softly, "We still have the ones that matter. The ones who saw us then, and stayed." She didn’t smile. She blinked. Slowly. And then it slipped out, almost too quiet to catch: "Are we… losing our spark?"

That broke me.

Because I knew exactly what she meant. That girl used to burn so brightly, her laughter filled whole rooms. She believed in forever friendships and being enough just as she was. And here I am—six years later—with a quieter laugh and a softer fire. I tried to move closer to her. She shifted away.

That’s when I noticed… she was sitting far. So far from me. Like she had built that distance long ago. Like she learned not to expect me to choose her. I had always been chasing others, trying to belong, trying to be liked. And somewhere in that chase, I left her behind. I whispered, "We burn differently now." She didn’t respond. I said it again. Firmer. More sure.

"We burn differently now."

And then, slowly, oh so slowly, I reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away this time. Maybe it was the way I looked at her. Or maybe it was because I finally saw her, not the version I wanted to fix, not the girl I was trying to grow past, but the brave, lonely girl who carried all my firsts and still waited for me in silence. Her eyes softened. Mine flooded. We sat like that for a while. Me and the girl I used to be.

No performance. No pretending. Just silence and presence. As she stood to leave, she turned back to me one last time and smiled. "We burn differently now," she repeated, like she finally believed it. And maybe that’s growth.


If you’re in your 20s and feeling a little disconnected from who you used to be… maybe this is for you. Maybe it’s okay that your circle is smaller, your dreams have shifted, or that you're not as loud as you once were.

Maybe healing looks like dropping your phone and sitting quietly with yourself.

Maybe we all burn differently now.


Let’s talk: If your younger self walked into your life today, what do you think they'd ask you?


Comments

Anonymous said…
“We burn differently now” — that line really stayed with me.
It happens quietly, how we drift from who we used to be.
If my younger self walked in today, I think he’d ask:
“Do we still believe in us?”
And honestly, I’d have to think about it.
June 17, 2025 at 3:39 PM
Hoodie Girl said…
"Do we still believe in us?"
That's a thoughtful question. But remember you'd definitely be someone who your younger self would be proud of. It may not happen in the way you thought it'd happen but it'd definitely happen🌹🌹
June 17, 2025 at 3:53 PM
Anonymous said…
My younger self will ask "what the hell happened to us down the line"?
And you know what? I wouldn't have known what to answer.
Something to thing about.

Brilliant piece, as always.
June 17, 2025 at 4:04 PM
Hoodie Girl said…
You got wiser, life may not offer you the things you wanted immediately but Life definitely offered you the wisdom to keep the things you needed. And that's you burning differently now🌹🌹

Thank you 😊😊
June 18, 2025 at 12:50 AM
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