Recently, this past few days, I have been browsing some old animated series and movies I've last watched a long time ago. Before, when I was still in college (and had heap upon heap of free time), I mostly spent my spare hours watching them.

One of those was about five friends - and all of them are in that strange yet nostalgic area between adolescence and adulthood. Weaving in and out of two seasons and thirty-six episodes was a bittersweet and wistful story about first love, the meaning of friendship, life-is-just-the-way-it-is humor, growing up, purpose, journeys, finding oneself, choices, and unrequited love. I thought after all these years, it would not affect me with the same intensity it did once - but it still tugged some strings, leaving me once again wondering to inexplicable depths.

Another was about a younger man falling for an older woman. Aside from being one of the funniest things I have ever watched, it was also one of the most heartwarming. Running at an astounding ninety-six episodes (none of which wasted), it was about how this naive, aimless boy grows into a man to prove himself worthy of the woman - who was an impenetrable lock herself, dealing with the loss of her first husband and the fact that she was giving up the memory of her love for her deceased spouse for a new one. They went through a lot: he finished school, took hits, dealt with more able suitors, lost self-respect, and then eventually - found it back; and turned his life around to be a productive, dependable person. The woman, on the other hand, took her time accepting being widowed, moving on, supported the guy with all her heart, and in the end, saw him as someone worthy of her - as she was for him.

It kind of hurts, though.

Seeing them again made me remember how genuinely dreamy and idealistic I was back then - how I was willing to be honest, love selflessly, and think about everything - and I considered life as this never-ending reflection of learning, regrets, and love; something which is still true. Although, one thing has changed: me. I don't consider it as much as I did once.

Aging could do some funny things to you. I once wore my heart up my sleeve - never holding back, always saying the right words, expressing emotions. But then, living would say things to you like, "Hey, this world isn't for people who are real. Build a wall around yourself before it's too late. People are going to hurt you."

So I did. Right now I feel like I'm concealing myself. I feel like I am in hiding - hidden from everyone around me. It even came to points wherein I think I am completely losing my former self. I could count by hand the number of times I have been completely honest for a long time.

And also, I am scared. I am scared that I could never find love again - the whimsical, unfeigned, beautiful kind of love. The thought that I would go on and on hiding and never letting anyone in terrifies me. What if this is how I would actually be? What if I wouldn't be able to experience the sincerity of loving and being loved in return? I wanted to be in one of those man-made stories that I watched and saw, where I can experience things like biking going on a journey by myself and finding meaning; or taking the long way proving myself worthy to a woman I'd give everything I have to.

In some ways, I want to return to who I was before I closed my eyes and moved with uncertainty.