I
think time was contracted to run faster as we got older. Or maybe we just got
busier, we got heavier, we got slower.
Every
day seems to move at a different pace bringing me new things every moment.
Every
year seems to whitewash the last, a whole year of inescapable bubbles I found
myself in, is pushed to the back of the shelf. Further and further till I have
forgotten what those feelings were like.
The
people that were a part of my life, the music that filled in the spaces when
silence was nowhere around to quieten down the restlessness of a childhood
passed from hand to hand.
I’m
afraid that as we move into our futures, we lose our chances when we quarrel,
when we slur against each other, when we are separated. When we are hurt, we
start turning away from the world, we start turning our backs on our parents,
and our siblings and we choose to forget them. We forget to take them along to
share in our moments.
I
know there are some things I need to experience for myself and I will, gladly.
Space is something we all crave but at the same time, as easy as we demand it,
that’s how quickly we want it to disappear. We try and wish it away, but we
still feel cornered by what we have asked for.
I’m
afraid that when I look into the future, I won’t see the people I love because
I would have forgotten to love them. I would have just gotten angrier and
angrier that they couldn’t understand me, how I grew and why I turned out to be
the way I am. I forget that I didn’t give them the time of day, I didn’t let
them care about me because when they tried, I didn’t explain. I didn’t want to
take the effort with them. Instead, I wasted my time with strangers and people
that took me for granted. I chose to tell them when they couldn’t care less
about me or what would happen to me.
I
told them anyway. Because telling them was easier, facing them felt lighter and
talking to them, reaching out to them I did quicker than searching for the
caring in my own blood.
I
don’t want to forget. I don’t want to be detached. We all have to move on. But
we don’t have to forget. I want to learn from them as much as I can. I don’t
want to have to regret that I wouldn’t know what they’d say or how they’d feel.
They are not my enemies. These are people that had lives before I happened.
These are people that made plenty of their own mistakes. These are people that
tried to be right and sacrificed who they were for me, so I could grow.
Who
shut up, so I could rant. Who got hurt, so I didn’t have to.
But I
did, I still did. Even after you stood to try and protect me, you didn’t
protect me from yourself. I didn’t think it would occur to you how important
you were. But now you do, you are what I know of love, sacrifice, pain, and
strength.
