Note: Just another random train of thought I’ve had late at night. I’d be surprised if there’s any true profoundness to any of this, as I just need to write thoughts down.
I’m only 19. I’m going to be a sophomore in college soon.
However, I can’t help feel like a lost or forgotten soul. Like I’ve lived lifetime after lifetime. As if I’ve lived for a thousand years.
I indulge in my past and continually try to foresee my future; I hardly ever sit still in the present.
More often now, I am stumbling upon old snapshots of my past life. Memories tossed about, like burnt orange leaves in the beginning of autumn.
While everyone else my age has already left the tram, I’m still stuck on the subway, watching my life blur by through the windows, trying to catch glimpses of places I’ve been, thinking I’ll get to my destination eventually. Just not right now.
When my life is busy, I forget about my past. It’s easy to be so caught up in the moment, in the present, that nothing else matters except this current moment.
And then I’ll find myself alone. I can relax. As my life slows down, I trip down a well of memories and past experiences, moments I’ve forgotten, but moments that define my life.
Sometimes they come for an obvious reason. I’ll remember an old kayak trip I went on when I was 6 while helping get ready for a boating trip.
Other times the memory will have no discernible reason for popping into my head, just an odd reminder. These memories usually surprise me, and I’ll think, “How did I ever forget that moment? That day meant a lot to me.”
I miss certain landmarks from the map of my life. Places I loved to visit. States of mind I wished I could possess again or relive and try again. Strangers that could have been friends. Friends that could have still stayed friends.
I look back on my life and wonder about the plasticity of my past. Part of me feels like it could change any moment. Some secret plot twist will come around eventually, revealing surprising but obvious in retrospect knowledge about my true life, true identity, true past.
But really, my life is my life. My past is my past. That is how it is. That is it was.
I’m stuck with the bad memories. I relish the good and try to ignore the bad. I’m always dreaming to return to good moments of my past, but I’m stuck here with the good and bad. No going back. No changing the past.
I wonder at the relativity of life as well. Again, I feel like a lost soul who’s lived a thousand years. So this is what 19 and a half years feel like? Sure, there’s the idea that time will feel like it’s going faster as one gets older, but I’m sure every moment in the future will be as rich as it has been.
I feel like I’ve lived a long time. No breaks. No postponements. Really, the only break I ever get from the long consciousness of time is the quiet nights of sleep without a flicker of a dream. I just keep going. I have to keep going. If I trip up, hit a bump in the road, I could veer off and end up with weeks, months, wasted.
And yet, despite my longing to reach far deep into the well of my life, my life is still short. I’ve barely lived at all. Haven’t even finished college. Time moves forward, whether or not you’re along for the ride.
I realize that my life has ups and downs. Everyone does.
I’m stuck with my past. I still miss some of those precious moments of my life, but I know I’ll continue to have more. Just have to keep moving forward. I couldn’t ask to be anyone else, honestly. I’ve lived a good life.