It's interesting how we desperately try to cling on to anything that can remind us of the specific past; certain songs, secret notes that we do not want to show anyone, virtual pictures of sweet, memories made, gifts bought - everything seems to suddenly hold a greater significance than anything that we've owned, especially if that certain past event has impacted us in an extremely strong way, say, perhaps emotionally and mentally. We try to recall with as much precision as our faulty memory is able to. It's pathetic, really, how much we try to recreate the past in our head.
I'm at the age where I see friends; senior and junior to me, get married, have kids-- basically moving on to the next phase in life: familyhood (is that even a word?). Me? I still think like a twenty-year-old, like a slightly older teenager living in a shell of a supposed adult. Not sure if that's a good thing. It probably isn't. It feels like a lifetime ago when my mentor spoke to me for over an hour one day, and her words sliced through me like a hot knife through hard, stubborn butter. "A little kid who doesn't know anything is cute in our eyes. But an adult who doesn't know how to act like one is unsightly." In other words, she was telling me to act my age. And I was like, what's a 26-year-old supposed to act like?? Good question. It's one I've been asking for a long time. Apparently, I was immature, insensitive, and in a way, selfish. All aspects you'd find in a little 5 year old. This was more than a year ago. I often wonder i...
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