When life moves on without you, you can’t help to start disliking people, yourself and then life itself.
In some cases, life moves on because you’ve literally slept through most of it and for most, it’s because you’ve figuratively slept through most of it. I’m the kind of person who isn’t afraid of change in theory. I know change is inevitable and for the most part, change is the one thing that’s constant in my life and I yearn for it… for myself at least, but when people change and take out the good things in their life (voluntarily), I start to wonder… Why do we change? To be better, right? So, why take out a good thing in your life? In the two years that I’ve graduated and consequently moved on with my life, I’ve realized a number of things. Just because I’ve changed and kept the good things in my life, it doesn’t mean everyone has. I assumed, the friendship that I’ve built in my high school years was a for sure thing because there was no drama between me or any number of my friends. There was no reason to lose them… for me at least. For the time being, I’m stuck in my past and recalling memories because I miss having the friends I used to have back then. I miss having them but I wouldn’t trade the close friends I have now. Not for a lifetime. Am I so prudent as to want all of it? I have the same issue with family. My brother’s so eager to move on, to grow up and be independent that his presence has diminished from 90% to a whopping 30-40%. I don’t understand why it’s so important to have a girlfriend when he’s barely able to balance school- just school. When he’s home, he likes to brag about how he picked up a girl at the mall. I completely understand that he needs to hangout with other guys and that this is what he does but I feel like he’s treating school like a second choice. My eldest sister is just the same, preoccupied with her boyfriend and how tiring her work is. When she wishes to hangout, it’s only if we’re going outside. She dislikes sitting down with us and talking. She wants everything to be a big moment and if it’s not, then sayonara! My parents are no different. If they have a story to tell, they’ll sit as long as they want on the dinner table. Church, computer, tv dramas, facebook, and gossips are more important to them than staying with their children. There is a time limit and another limit to how many stories you can tell them. They are… financially present. In my life, I have a few constant names left that I know I can run to when I need help. Is this what it means to grow up? Companion Piece: how to grow up