The other day I came face to face with a not so nice part of my past. It was an old friend of mine that was sort of right where I left her. She's from a time in my life that is different, chaotic in a way. I laugh thinking about the night we all got twisted on JD, got May Wilson, and just had some sort of blurry under-aged adventure in the New York City Bar we were in. The whole place smelled like JD. She was my friend. It was happy.
Then it wasn't. Things change when the party gets weird. That means the party is over. Time to get a life. What's cute at nineteen stops being cute when you are twenty two or twenty three. I got the memo, I guess my friend didn't. She talked about being hung over and had this story of this guy she's seeing and how she's cheating and the whole thing just made my head spin. She looked like a mess. It was the middle of the day, he makeup was running, and her breath smelled eerily familiar. She asked me how I liked her mouth wash. Mouth wash, you mean booze, right?
The whole adventure made me long for elementary school. It made me long for brownies, cookies, soda and how Nancy Reagan told us all we could "Just Say No." It was before I knew anyone who died as a result of a drug overdose or ruined their life because of addiction. It was when parties had pizza as the most decadent guest. My big worries were getting my tumbling passes at my weekly gymnastics classes, and nailing my duet with my sister. Then there was swim practice where my other big worry was the cold and calling my mother in case we got locked out of the building on her oversized cellphone. Did I mention I missed the summer reading club where I could devour books with no consequence whatsoever?
When did things become so hard? When did my friends from the past become different people? Why does it break my heart?
Then I remember sometimes the past wasn't so hot. That for as fun as ten years old was, I don't want to go back. Most importantly, I cannot. I can treasure the memories but damnit, I really went to school with some jerkoffs. I don't want to do the pizza and soda with those people. I want them to choke on it.
In a way I can go back to the summer reading club, because I am donating a copy of my book to the local library. In a way I can go back to gymnastics because now I make my living on a stage. In a way I can go back to a duet with my sister because we are producing a video together. But I know ten is out the window. So is nineteen.
Now if only my friend can let go of nineteen. Really, it wasn't that great.
Love,
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang
877-Buy-Book
www.buybooksontheweb.com
Then it wasn't. Things change when the party gets weird. That means the party is over. Time to get a life. What's cute at nineteen stops being cute when you are twenty two or twenty three. I got the memo, I guess my friend didn't. She talked about being hung over and had this story of this guy she's seeing and how she's cheating and the whole thing just made my head spin. She looked like a mess. It was the middle of the day, he makeup was running, and her breath smelled eerily familiar. She asked me how I liked her mouth wash. Mouth wash, you mean booze, right?
The whole adventure made me long for elementary school. It made me long for brownies, cookies, soda and how Nancy Reagan told us all we could "Just Say No." It was before I knew anyone who died as a result of a drug overdose or ruined their life because of addiction. It was when parties had pizza as the most decadent guest. My big worries were getting my tumbling passes at my weekly gymnastics classes, and nailing my duet with my sister. Then there was swim practice where my other big worry was the cold and calling my mother in case we got locked out of the building on her oversized cellphone. Did I mention I missed the summer reading club where I could devour books with no consequence whatsoever?
When did things become so hard? When did my friends from the past become different people? Why does it break my heart?
Then I remember sometimes the past wasn't so hot. That for as fun as ten years old was, I don't want to go back. Most importantly, I cannot. I can treasure the memories but damnit, I really went to school with some jerkoffs. I don't want to do the pizza and soda with those people. I want them to choke on it.
In a way I can go back to the summer reading club, because I am donating a copy of my book to the local library. In a way I can go back to gymnastics because now I make my living on a stage. In a way I can go back to a duet with my sister because we are producing a video together. But I know ten is out the window. So is nineteen.
Now if only my friend can let go of nineteen. Really, it wasn't that great.
Love,
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang
877-Buy-Book
www.buybooksontheweb.com
No comments:
Post a Comment