When did we become so grownup? So old and responsible?
When did we become so grown up that we started being responsible for our own life, and the lives of others? When did we start taking care of my parents, when all we ever knew was them taking care of us?
How did we grow so old in a heartbeat, making our own money and shopping for groceries for the house? When did we come so old that we are paying for vegetables and shampoo with our own money?
We grew up, even though we didn’t want to, even though we were not ready. We grew up, and nobody asked us if we’d like to take all these responsibilities or remain safe in our beds on a Sunday morning, not thinking of what to cook for our dependents, not getting worked up for laundry day.
I’m not saying it was easy, or fun, or happy, but it was just not as hard. Our problems were a “me” problem, and not the whole world carried on our shoulders. Or it just me? I never know.
I’m listening to You by Switchfoot, and it’s one of my ‘nostalgia’ songs. I was 15, and I just broke my leg on a snow day the first day of 2013, and I watched A Walk To Remember. I thought that the movie is good, but not one of my personal best, but I got You by Switchfoot from it, and You was on repeat for a year. When I wanted to sleep, I would listen to it as a lullaby.
I downloaded my Twitter archives a week ago, and I’ve been looking at all those pictures, all those memories I’ve forgotten, and the rush of nostalgia has made my heart so, so, heavy. I searched the whole house for one of the shirts that were my favorites when I was 16, and I’ve been wearing it for a few days. As if wearing it would make all the responsibilities go away.
Anyway, here are some memories that might not make much sense to you, but I hope you can feel them.
Beqaa at 5am. The first rainy day on the last school yearThis was more of a bi-weekly outing with people who were the closest to me. I cannot believe I was underweight at that time, because sometimes we would add to that mix waffles. We were a group of eight, and we would spend most of our nights at our friend’s house. Now, the only people who are still in my life are two of them. (thank you for all the memories) Bkassine walk. It was a warm day in September and it was so peaceful. I was all alone that night, talking to my back-then favorite person and feeling so loved. Saturday morningsI don’t think I appreciated this beauty enough back then.My favorite days were when I would write my story on our village balcony. Songs I was probably listening to: shesmovedon by Porcupine Tree and Polyamorous by Breaking BenjaminMy teta was probably sitting next to me, offering me grapes.It wasn’t a beach day without our turkey and cheese sandwiches.This day was hard on me. My anxiety levels were so high that I had to get out of the car and walk home from school. When I got home I skyped my back-then favorite person, and all my anxiety went away. Yes, I played the Kim Kardashian game. Here is me with Kim. When I was 16, I had taphophile; a major interest in graves and cemeteries. I would spend quite some time searching photos like the above, and I would visit my grandpa’s grave on a weekly basis. (I was never that sane).I was too afraid to wash my hands. Too afraid it would fade away.That week was the very first week I practically lived independently. My best friend’s family was out of the town so we had the house to ourselves.Reading the Fault In Our Stars, and crying for three days after. (also: that was my favorite Christmas holiday)I think we can all relate to the serenity of this. We all had our moments at the “waterfront”.This was the only spot in our village house that we had wifi in. I remember that night, vaguely. Why did I ever have those gloves and why don’t think still exit?This weekend is still one of my favorite weekends.
I know I’m making no sense, but all those were perfect moments to me. Oh what I would do to live in a moment.
