Those feelings of the past

Posted on March 1, 2009

MeToYou

I remember the times when we stayed in school after lessons; laughing, talking, enjoying each other's company.

I remember the times when we studied together; helping each other, listening to each other, pushing each other on.

I remember the times when we hung out together; having fun, playing, relaxing, singing.

I remember all the times, for they have become a deep part of my memory, for they were what shaped me today.

I laugh at all the stupid times we had, I smile at all the ridiculous fun we had, I chuckle at all the silly things we had, but I cry whenever I think of them.

Not because I was unhappy, not because I didn't like those times, but because I cherished them too much to watch them fade into history.

I cry because I miss the times, because I don't want to lose the precious memories, because those were the times I truly enjoyed.

We're all slowly but surely, growing. We can never act as a 14-year-old, laugh like a 13-year-old, or play like a 12-year-old. We can never be kids anymore, and we probably won't have the pure and innocent times together again.

And it hurts so much, because my life was so lightly lit at those times.

And now we're here, forced to enter society, to be young adults who will now have to make decisive actions. We're now plenty accountable for what we do, for how we act.

It's a transition I do not want, because I still miss the innocent times. I dread growing up, because I want back those playful moments.

There are just so many things that I hold dear, but can only watch as it becomes part of our memory, never to be relived again.

Reality has not lifted its malicious finger, and so we've to move on, and look into the future. What lies beyond that thin line between present and future, we won't know.

But I'm extremely thankful for everyone who have been a part of my life. I appreciated every moment of pain and sorrow, laughter and joy, for every experience had pushed me to become more sensible, more appreciable. Without pain, we won't feel joy. Without sorrow, we won't know what was happiness.

Just like dark chocolates, bitter yet sweet.