But as each day goes by we grow more and more afraid.
Afraid of what we don't know, which is our future.
We forget the boring repetitive motions, that make up the bulk of our life.
Our memories are full of frightening, exciting, and soul feasting events of change.
December the 18th,
It was saturday, marking the official end to year 10,
and a start to those long holidays, that you spend all year wating for.
I woke that morning with a sickly feeling, and a phonecall of pain and foreboding released my nausea through endless tears, gossip girl and ice cream.
A lot of things happened that day, so much so that I felt like I'd lost myself in a pool of distaste and emptiness. But, I was still myself inside, way beneath the exaggerated pain and suffering, was little old me.
Although, I was never little, but bubbly and excitable, of average height and form, large facial features, obtuse personality, not little. And, I am yet to be old. So there was enormous young me, sitting, watching and waiting for the moment when i noticed that flicker in my eye. The flicker of recognition and redemption of pride.
As much as the world changed around me, I was still the same me. And that thought, changed me.
January:
I was blatently rejected, then blatently accepted. Utterly confused.
I sang to the melody of my own tune, listened to my heart, and mixed lyrics with the flutterings of the unsteaded blood pumping. I had a job, friends, a beautiful family, at some point a boyfriend, a sore tonsil (only one), familiar baggies under my eyes, a year to look forward to, ironed white shirts, brand new matching knickers and five gum at hand. But something was missing. My mind.
It wasn't till the very end of this month in which i found it lying tattered by the side of my bed, beneath piles of unwashed clothes and school books. With it I found enthusiasm, to bring it back to health and let it live on with ease and limited angst. I learnt that teen angst was a waste of time, but practically unavoidable. So, my mind back flipped and let me accept that life was life, and would always be while I am alive, living and breathing life.
February:
My sister and I argued over the front seat like the spoiled brats we are, snickering snide comments towards eachother about how ugly and horrible and obese we were. My mum started the car. My sister complained about the music and how it wasn't playing in the back seat speakers, and in response I called her deaf, among more vibrantly worded descriptions. My mum drove on. I sang loudly and outoftune to bohemian rhapsody, my sister yelled at me, but sang a long with me. My mum paused the track.
My grandfather had been admitted to hospital with bowel cancer.
My sister and I cried, my mother drove on in silence.
March:
Sometimes you learn from your mistakes, and sometimes it takes a second go.
This change in thoght was inevidable, "LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES!" My conscience barked, and a patted him on the head and gave him a treat.
I fell in love, unreasonably. And it remains a secret, even to me.
But there it is.
My heart took over my body, and decided it most necessary to fall in love with something so far out of reach, so unattainable, that I would urn but not be distressed too much by it's precence.
The intensity was greater than my love for my undoubtfully, or if you're grammatically correct, doubtlessly, soulmate Basil, my best friends, my parents, my sister, my aunties, uncles, cousins, grandparents, pets. I could not, and still do not consume this lightly, or at all. There is no way that I understand what this overwhelming power is, but it exists, and will remain to be ignored until the feelings can be properly expressed.
I might wait years, or i might stop waiting.
But, the drastic change to such a feeling, unimaginable. Frighteningly unimaginable.
April:
I made a list, 16 things to do before my 16th birthday. It is now waiting to be exterminated.
Oh the loathe that I hold for this uncompletable list, which seemed like a good idea at the time.
Ah, key phrase "seemed like a good idea, at the time."
This would surely follow me through my life, with a tutt tutting essence to my swagger.
May:
Three days.
Try not talking for Three Days, and I'll buy you a Ferrari.
He said.
And he wasn't joking, or lying.
But, as it goes, I failed without realising, and proceeded to remain silent in my unnoticed failure.
Regaurdless, I learnt.
I learnt the importance of words and the strength of that communication.
The way some people just enjoy talking, and the feeling bubbling inside my bones when they simply would not STOP.
I observed, and entertained myself by attempting to communicate with people.
I told lies, without speaking, what talent!
I read books, and closed my eyes and ears and everything was gone except a smell in the air, and the pulse of my breath.Life was beautiful, until I talked,
and talked and talked.
and kept talking till i was alone.
For, I have tried talking to myself.
Yeah.. it's a bit fucked.
June:
I will be sixteen, and I will be around dying, sick, old people as much as I can, wishing on every "11:11pm" that bowel cancer was just a dream.
I will be Mary, and I will probably do a lot of regretful things, but I will die smiling, one would hope
