Time's windows

I recently was looking at an old picture of mine. A passport size photograph actually, taken at the beginning of 2009. I used that ID for over a year and the only thing I noticed about the picture is I looked angry, which I have come to discover is my normal look as long as I am not smiling. This time round, three years later, I saw something different. I was sort of taken aback. I couldn't recognise the girl in the picture. She looked broken and tired. The pain in her eyes is unmistakable and the look on her face...fighting to be strong, not knowing if she still knew how. My mind went on a little trip down memory lane not just to that day but to that time. I put my hand to my chest, rubbed it a bit,as if feeling for the scars on my heart, as if soothing the wounds, my mind had taken my heart with it to its trip. The memories felt so fresh as I looked at that girl. I wondered how I ever made it out alive, out of that pain. I am not that girl anymore but that picture creates knots in my chest. Looking at it is just like looking through a window to that point in time, three years ago.