From my journal, dated January 20, 2012 (age 17)
So it’s been around two weeks since I last wrote. A lot has happened, but at the same time, not much has happened at all. Our school went on our annual ski trip – my last one. It was loads of fun and a little sad. It’s scary that it’s already fading in my memory, and I’m scared of forgetting. I feel that I am, for the first time, at an age where I can begin to look back on my life. Before, my life was always ahead – yet to come. But now I feel that a part of my life is over and looking back on it I don’t remember as much as I would like.
Last November I returned to my elementary school for the first time. It brought back so many memories, and I wasn’t so much puzzled that I’d forgotten the once familiar objects and events, but that I forgotten what it felt like back then. I don’t remember the joy of a birthday, of a good grade, or of a surprise. And I don’t remember the awe of childhood. I guess I’m a very emotional person, and memories to me are nothing without feeling. For example, sometimes when I’m reading I can’t really “get into” a certain book because I’m too focused on trying to figure out what the character is feeling and what I should be feeling at the moment. Someone once said to me: “You have the ability to feel things deeply. That’s not a bad thing.” At the time I didn’t realize how true that was, the first part I mean.
I also wonder if I think too much. Do others think as much as I do? I guess we’ll never know… My mind is both my best friend and my worst enemy.