once upon a lifetime
you were a part of me
fighting battles with me and showing me your scars, old and new
now, we are simply strangers
leaving our history for the dust that flies behind our feet
a quick indifferent glance
an instantaneous aversion of the eyes
an incapability of conversation
we used to be two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly next to each other
but now we are bent and chipped and have lost and gained
and we are different;
we don't fit ~
it never ceases to amaze me how quickly people move on
i meant something to you once
and now we are strangers
with a past that entwined with each other
once upon a lifetime
so look at me, old friend
do you remember me? do you remember us?
do you remember the memories we shared
once upon a lifetime?
Over the course of my seventeen years of existence on planet Earth, I have come to understand quite a few things about myself. One of these things is that I get attached very deeply to certain people. It's kind of sad, actually, especially since I've moved about 9 times in my whole life. You would think that leaving people and starting over would get easier each time, but that was never the case for me. I always found it hard to leave my friends and begin a new life, whether it was a couple of miles or a couple of states away. It always astounded me: how is it that I am always the one stuck in the past, reliving my old memories and being plagued with nostalgia while everyone else seems so happy and content with their lives? I always used to think that everyone would leave me, and that I was the only one staying still. It seems like that, honestly. But it just hit me; I am usually the one leaving.
I sat here and thought about it for a while. I realized that when one of my friends moved, I would feel sad for the time being, but I had all my other friends surrounding me and I soon got over it. But when I left, things were different. It was like my whole life revolved around my past, my old friends and my previous home. I was shocked. The entire time, I thought I was the one being left behind, but instead I was the one doing the leaving. I was the one being forced to let go, which is why it seemed to be a lot harder on me than on other people.
The more I think about it, the more I feel like this realization was so obvious. It's one of those conclusions that you come to and then let out an embarrassed little chuckle once you also realize that you were a little slow in approaching that conclusion. But I still feel amazed. People move on so fast. We take so much for granted. Every person we interact with is taken for granted to some extent or another, and we don't understand that until we leave. I find it sad that we still don't understand this when they leave. It's upsetting that things have to directly affect us for us to notice the effects of our actions and attitudes. What happened to our emotions?
Contrary to the popular societal view, I think having emotions is a beautiful thing. No, it does not make you weak or sensitive. You don't have to be hard and cold for people to think you're "in". Feelings are beautiful, and letting people know that you care for them is a wonderful thing, for them and for you. It's important that we show appreciation for all the people we meet and greet them with a smile, and give them as much love as we can. You never know when they'll leave your life, bequeathing only fractured memories for you to hold on to and build the frames of their lost presences from.