I feel that in order to stop reminiscing about the past, you must embrace it. You must accept the shittiest moments as well as the best, and decide what moments have made you who you are today. You don't have to love it; you just can't hate it anymore.
At five years old I fell to the ground. My knee was badly scraped. I rolled around on the pavement crying at the sensation of the momentary yet never ending burn.
At six I heard my parents screaming. I heard a chair topple. I heard words like "pain", "doubt" , "divorce". I was unaware of the meaning of that event until i didnt my see daddy anymore; whether it was because he didn't put in enough effort to make me remember the moments he was there, or because he was getting high in the back room and my mother didn't allow me to see him.
At seven I leaned on my sister. Unable still to grasp that I just wanted to hold onto what hadn’t yet changed in my life. I had her, and she wouldn't get rid of me. I would make sure nothing distanced us.
At eight I was angry. Angry for what reason? Angry because I was eight, and had so little to remember except disappointment. Angry because I was eight, and eight year olds aren’t able to stay angry, right? Angry because nobody paid attention for more than five minutes. Angry because I was eight and not thirty. Angry because I didn’t have quite enough life experience to just shrug off my problems yet.
At nine I had a secret. A secret because I was told so. A secret because it was my escape and my thrill.
At ten it was a secret life. A life with freedoms. A life with misled purpose.
At eleven it was a disease, a drug; a lifestyle that puts a haze across your eyes and a flame in your mind. A misconception of power and strength.
At twelve I felt emptiness. An emptiness that scars. Is twelve finally old enough to be angry? Or finally old enough to be depressed? The difference between them was a thin line concealed by those who continuously told me that I had not seen enough to be a good judge of what i needed. I had to let them advise me as if they had my eyes.
At thirteen was distance. Distancing from those that had hurt me, ironically, because i loved them. A constant scene that is repeated throughout anyone's life. It is a habit that is slowly formed, and I felt that the only way to resolve things was to step away. Because that was the only way to protect myself and them, right? A decision that a thirteen year old should not have to make.
At fourteen there were two lives. A smile as a reaction to anything said, and a knife as reaction to anything read.
At fifteen was work. No sleep. Maturing in the worst way, in the most unhealthy way; like a cub raised in a circus that is whipped every day to behave. And behave I did.
At sixteen was numbness. It was blood, and makeup, and acting. It was when you walk until you have to kneel and pray someone makes you lay down.
I wish I was five- where a bike accident was my never ending burn. Where my pain only ruined thirty minutes of my day. I can't find a better word to describe adults than accustomed humans. You become accustomed to certain pains that would be devastating to a little child. You become accustomed to beautiful views or to certain tastes in your mouth. I realize the truth in this sentiment so much more when I look back at my life. When I walk into the same house and it just isn't as big anymore; or I eat a dish I used to eat when I was 6 and it just doesn't taste as good anymore. I think that maturity is often confused with this at a young age. Is a 16 year old more mature than his best friend, or has he just been through more **** than is acceptable to say in a public setting? I am desensitized to so many things in my life now; and it takes the love of my friends and the love of my life to make me realize it. I don't think of it as an expression of internal calm or thoughtfulness, but actually as my brain trying to protect me from future damage. It's not maturity, it's security. I await the day where i process everything in a stable and calm manner not because I have to, but because it's natural.