Living in the Past
I've been reading my old diary entries since last week. And sure enough, after the diaries came my high school year book.It was only natural that my photo albums followed...and I stopped right in the middle of cleaning my room yesterday to flip through some memories.
Some pictures made me smile, and some made me stare off into space as I recalled fleeting glimpses of the people and things that have marked my life.
Why am I always reminiscing?
I miss people. Not just an old boyfriend, but old friends. I even miss people that I dislike.
I think sometimes I like feeling sad. I like thinking about what was. I'm always looking back as if all that stuff is so much better than what I have--what I am--now.
Maybe that's because I only choose to remember (I mean, really, vividly remember) the good. I remember the fun, the friendship, and more or less block out details of the bad times.
In retrospect, everything is rose-colored and glittered with happiness. Whereas real life, RIGHT NOW, is just that--it's real. It's not muddled in any way by my selective memory, not painted in pretty tones by my wishful thinking.
It's all the rich, gritty colors of life. And sometimes I'd just like to escape it, to go back to simpler times.
But my memories are fading. I can't remember things people said, or what I was wearing on specific occassions. Mostly I remember feelings, thoughts, and emotions. I remember a mood. A tone of voice. A song on the radio. I remember...
...my first kiss. It happened on the stoop of my parents' house, a summer night swarming with mosquitos and lit only by the dim house lights. I was absolutely terrified. I wanted to be anywhere but there. And then it happened, short, soft, a little awkward--not a great kiss by any means. Yet I walked into the house that night feeling excited, on top of the world, special.
...the day I got my first car. I was so surprised, and yet I was afraid of being entrusted with such a big responsibility. I also felt freedom, and gratefulness to my parents. And I felt proud that they gave me such a privilege. I remember how my mom had to prompt me to sit in the driver's seat and touch the controls. I felt like the car was some delicate, off-bounds thing that didn't belong to me. And yet, it did.
...when I spilled red nail polish all over the upstairs hallway carpet. The minute it happened, I felt intense fear. Ironically, I don't even remember really getting trouble. But I do remember that long walk to my parents' room, my heart beating wildly, to deliver the bad news.
...a fight with my sister. I don't even know what it was about, but I know we couldn't stand not speaking to each other for more than an hour. We wrote each other notes of apology, and then she made the first move. "Friends?" she asked. "Yeah," I said as we hugged. I remember seeing my aunt watching us go through this little ritual, and immediately feeling dorky and goofy. But I also felt the intense safety of that hug--total unconditional love.
...my first butterflies. Before he was my high school boyfriend, DishonestBF was just my friend. We were leaving the school's football game on a cold night, and he gave me his jacket. We walked close together up the stadium steps. I could feel the warmth of his body, and I knew something was going to happen between us. And it did, later that night. I didn't feel scared this time at all. Just anxious, excited, intrigued.
...I remember so many random snippets like these. There's not much to them, but they're there. I guess I pull them out on days where I'm feeling sort of...empty. Yesterday was a day when I needed to feel those emotions again--fear, happiness, excitement. It was a day when I needed to feel alive.
I don't think I'm quite done with the diaries yet, but I tucked the pictures back into my desk drawer. I'll leave them there for another lonely day.
posted by Sleepy Girl @ 1:57 PM
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