And I grew up.
Of course it had to happen, but it just didn't seem like the sort of thing that would ever happen to me.
All I know is that I've been progressing over the past four years, to a point where I can recognize myself, but I can't do it without shaking my head a little. There was such a spunk for life that seems different now. I guess I'm a lot more worn around the edges by the world, already. A little cynicism and a lot more wit. My grammar has certainly improved, and I think I've found a way to make my thoughts progress more gradually. That means I have more patience, more foresight, and maturity.
... And I grew up.
I was stalking myself on google and I went back to my old xanga account. I remember that article I wrote; where I lamented that "three years couldn't happen fast enough"... and they have. How strange, to be on that same bed so many years ahead, with so little actually changing in this room but so much changed in my heart and mind and life.
It's part of being young; 3 years out of 18 is a good chunk of time, proportionally speaking. It's a lot more waiting than my 15 year old heart could have handled if I'd known then what I do now. It's a blessing that we can't see into the future, or surely, we would all be mad. What I've seen and dealt with has been so big now, but at least I didn't know what disappointment was forthcoming; and trusting in God, it did work out, and time settled.
So here I am: a legal adult. I'll be gone in two months and I'll be gone. How would I have guessed that I would attend college on the other side of the world? That I would decide to abandon this language for a new one? That I would never drive again; that I would say goodbye to so many things.
It's weird how I can see, now, what the meaning of leaving truly is. The simple things will be gone. The time won't just leave me, but my friendships will grow brittle as the time gathers between us. I won't be able to wake up and drive out for some Tex-Mex. I don't know when I'll be eating Taco Bell anymore. I don't know if I'll have a chance at speaking without an accent ever again. I can't believe I'm doing these things that I was always told "cannot be done" and I, the girl who proved all of the statistics, expectations, and therapists wrong...
I'm going to do it again.
I've grown up and I'm starting over, just like last time when I knew I was not a child.
I don't know what that makes me now, exactly. But it's something new, and I embrace it.
All I know is that I've been progressing over the past four years, to a point where I can recognize myself, but I can't do it without shaking my head a little. There was such a spunk for life that seems different now. I guess I'm a lot more worn around the edges by the world, already. A little cynicism and a lot more wit. My grammar has certainly improved, and I think I've found a way to make my thoughts progress more gradually. That means I have more patience, more foresight, and maturity.
... And I grew up.
I was stalking myself on google and I went back to my old xanga account. I remember that article I wrote; where I lamented that "three years couldn't happen fast enough"... and they have. How strange, to be on that same bed so many years ahead, with so little actually changing in this room but so much changed in my heart and mind and life.
It's part of being young; 3 years out of 18 is a good chunk of time, proportionally speaking. It's a lot more waiting than my 15 year old heart could have handled if I'd known then what I do now. It's a blessing that we can't see into the future, or surely, we would all be mad. What I've seen and dealt with has been so big now, but at least I didn't know what disappointment was forthcoming; and trusting in God, it did work out, and time settled.
So here I am: a legal adult. I'll be gone in two months and I'll be gone. How would I have guessed that I would attend college on the other side of the world? That I would decide to abandon this language for a new one? That I would never drive again; that I would say goodbye to so many things.
It's weird how I can see, now, what the meaning of leaving truly is. The simple things will be gone. The time won't just leave me, but my friendships will grow brittle as the time gathers between us. I won't be able to wake up and drive out for some Tex-Mex. I don't know when I'll be eating Taco Bell anymore. I don't know if I'll have a chance at speaking without an accent ever again. I can't believe I'm doing these things that I was always told "cannot be done" and I, the girl who proved all of the statistics, expectations, and therapists wrong...
I'm going to do it again.
I've grown up and I'm starting over, just like last time when I knew I was not a child.
I don't know what that makes me now, exactly. But it's something new, and I embrace it.