They say that if you love something, let it go; it’ll come back if it ever loved you. I used to not believe that. I used to think that if someone loved you, they’d make every effort to stay. I just didn’t realize that even through all the efforts, people still sometimes fail. I didn’t realize that sometimes people leave unwillingly. I didn’t realize that sometimes someone can’t help if they are forced to leave, regardless of all the effort put into staying. But that’s changed now. I realized that if someone ever really did matter, they’ll find a way to be back into your life. Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe life just needed to mature the both of you. Maybe life just needed to teach you how to act. And maybe, maybe my life knew it was you. I just had to mature up and know how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.
What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday, you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today…Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like as if you are three…Because the way you grow old is like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk.
Sandra Cisneros, Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories