I’d love for us to stay this way forever.
This was the only thing I could utter to myself as I watched my friends run toward me with smiles that could almost replace the crooked childhood I had weathered — nearly, as I escaped with many rueful moments I only think about now. Twenty and barely pushing myself to grow up, to change, to accept that everything I have now will disappear one day — barely able to grasp the thought that someday, I’ll have no choice but to grow up.
At that moment, however, I couldn’t even think about growing up. I had forgotten about it. I had chosen not to think about it even in the slightest. I can still hear the way we laughed in our favorite food place, stuck between the urge to go home and to stay a bit longer. I can still feel the way I leaned against my friends as we promised ourselves silly dreams that we’ll one day remember on a random Wednesday. I can still draw from memory the way the moon looked like that night — half, close to me, and it glowed brighter than the day before. It was as if the moon was young again — like a child, like it didn’t want to grow old as well. The air was like fairy dust in my lungs and the stars aligned like a bunch of friends that evening. And I knew we were all trying to not grow up during that moment. One second we were on the edge all day because of college, and in a blink of weary eyes, I could watch my friend run off because we claimed there was a ghost at the seemingly unlit house across the streets. And as we laughed, we followed her and ran down the path as well. I laughed so hard I could feel tears forming at the side of my eyes. I’d love for us to stay this way forever.
I’d love it if everything could stay this simple forever.
I would love to be 12 again with eyes fluttering at the slightest joke. I would love to be 12 again and I’m jumping on my bed unable to sleep because it is summer and tomorrow I’ll be going on vacation with my family. I would be sitting on the kitchen floor while watching my mom cook my favorite meal. I would be taking pictures using my aunt’s vintage keypad (that won’t even turn on now). Now that I am 20, I am looking for the things that used to exist and fit in the palms of my hands when I was 12. When I never thought I’d have to grow up.
I’d love to never grow up.
It would all be so, so simple that all I have to do is lie in the living room at four in the afternoon and feel the sun sleep on the floor with me. I’d memorize how the yellow curtains my mother hung yesterday would embrace the wind and welcome the light that sought to hum me to slumber. It would all be so easy that all I have to do is familiarize my father’s footsteps and wait for my mother to call me when it’s time for dinner. My grandmother would ask me to go grocery shopping with her and we’d secretly eat at our cherished bakery. She’d buy me a soda and my favorite bread, and we’d talk while pointing at random cars on the streets. Everything would be so uncomplicated that all I have to do is wake up for school and watch my favorite morning cartoon. My mother would prepare my lunch box and help me wear my uniform. I’d love to get ready for school with my mother.
I’d love to wait for my mother to come pick me up again after class.
Now, I’m in college and I’m turning older in a few months. I’m on a bit of a rough patch with my studies and I don’t know what to do. I’ve had my heart broken and I’ve been hurt enough to realize that it’s really time to move forward with life. I don’t dance in the living room anymore, the past feels distant, and things feel more complex now. I don’t remember what my childhood was like, high school seems so far away, and it’s dawned on me that everything around me has changed, too. The streets are smaller, the bed can’t fit us three anymore, and the house is bigger. My cousins have grown taller and my grandmother’s older than she was when I was six. Our toys are left sealed in the cabinet and haven’t been played with since six years ago. They’re no longer scared of monsters, and my childhood cat doesn’t wait for me on the porch anymore. I would have loved it if the things around me didn’t grow up as well.
I never wanted to grow up, yet I still did anyway.
When I was 12, I couldn’t wait to grow up. But now that I’m 20, I dream of being 12 again.
