my whole life has just.. passed me by so fucking fast. like. eighteen years of living is stuck in my head and half of that shit doesn’t even seem real anymore? i remember staring at the puddles on the street while walking home from preschool with my brother, and hitting myself in the face with one of those kiddie chairs and getting a bloody nose, and how my brother would make my lunch, eggs cut up into neat squares, ketchup, slice of toast. and my crib, i remember my crib, sitting their listening to the rain curled up in my loony tunes blanket and staring at the soft glow of the bedroom lamp, which was the only think that was turned on. I remember the first night i slept in my own bed, and watching the antique roadshow because nothing else was on, and the last day of kindergarten, where i got a boy to sign my yearbook by pretending to be a car and making him laugh. and i remember writing a dumb Narnia rip off in the first grade where all i did was just inserted me and my classmates in the story, and i begged the teacher to let me read it to the class, but i got embarrassed halfway through and changed all the names because i didn’t want people to think i was weird for writing about them. but my teacher put the book, which was really just printer paper stapled together with crude drawings, in our mini library, and a boy read it immediately after and came up to me later to tell me it was really cool that i wrote him into the story. and i remember making a diorama on the Kookaburra, cutting pictures of trees and flowers out of magazines while my mom knitted, pulling out moss from my backyard and gluing it onto the cardboard box. i was really proud of that diorama.
i made a bug hospital under a big pine tree in my backyard, tried to nurse dying moths back to health and take care of wounded spiders. ate strawberry popsicles on blankets in my backyard with my friend. i remember the first time i was able to ride a bike without falling, how good it felt. i remember my mom’s cookies, and the way she always ended up burning the breaded chicken she made. i remember trying to part my hair all the way to the side, how it was perpetually over one eye for the entirety of my 5th grade year. i remember writing music lyrics on my wrists and having a guy mistake it for my own poetry. i remember standing in department store’s makeup isles and smearing as much of their ‘try me!’ black eye shadow across my lids as i could. i remember buying bright red, dappled aquamarine, deep blue pants and pairing them with rainbow polka-dot rain boots, and calling that fashion. i remember the halls of my elementary school, the halls of my middle school, the way the doors looked, the way the carpet felt.
i remember being that person, i remember living those moments, but it just all just seems so far away, at the same time? it’s frustrating to remember, and yet, not have those memories completely in my grasp. those times are gone. they’re gone and they’re not coming back. and.. i’m happy with where i’m at now. i’m in a better state than i ever was. but at the same time, i can’t help but feel like time has been taken from me. and it has, obviously, but part of me just wants those moments back.