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Coming of Age

One day I woke up on a very cold night, the cool winds caressing my skin. Thank Goodness I had my blanket around me, it was indeed colder than usual. It was indeed colder than usual. A sure sign that winter was coming. Finally, after the days that were so warm, too warm. Warmer than it needed to be.

I was awakened by a dream. I woke up in a sort of "hazy" state. At least that was my version of reality, I could not see beyond what seemed to be at that moment. I had this terrible dream. It wasn't a nightmare, but still, it was terribly intense, and I saw flashbacks from my past.

It was like I wanted to win. I didn't know or understand what this dream was about, but it was one of those dreams that made you feel like you were falling off the bed and perfectly ruined a goodnight's sleep. I mean not that you didn't enjoy the sleep, you just felt the urge to get off the bed and go get something to eat. All while your parents were still asleep.

But I want to stop talking about these larger-than-life feelings. Those feelings that you have, that you seem to think are larger than life for whatever reason. This happened last night, but the way I recollect it makes it sound like something from a glorious ballad called "Desdemona" that I recently came across.

I miss her, I miss the young girl that I was, that was adventurous. She was in a word 'Different'. She wasn't that way because other people said she was. She was like that because it humored her because she had been conditioned to make a story of anything. She was always larger than life, and everyone said so, too which is why it seemed even sweeter.

Is it okay to recollect all the times she put her pen to paper and stories that everyone loved came out? The poetry she wrote was indeed intense. It was the type people just loved to hear. The time she opened her mouth to sing was indeed ever so inviting! Add to that the fact that she was good-looking, and everywhere she went people had nice things to say about who she was and how she was!

And coming back to the night on which I was awake at 2 a.m., and as a young thing whose legs were growing a little too long, I has already mastered the art of tip-toeing down the stairs in an effort to grab a midnight snack, which of course was "off limits " because my folks had a problem with me eating in my bed!

It was indeed cold that night, and it did not help that the refrigerator was even colder when I opened it. There seemed to be something that I knew I would be very guilty of stealing if I took even a bite. My brother's pizza that he had ordered the day before but hadn't touched. He didn't like sharing his food!

I took a wanton bag of nuts that seemed abandoned in some corner of the huge refrigerator for whatever reason and tiptoed back up the stairs. I decided I would turn on my night light, and read a rather forbidden book that I had gotten off the shelf of the nearby library, which accidentally happened to be in the kid's section.

I picked up the book and started to read. Before you know it I was asleep and it is indeed a fact that reading before bed does, in fact, help you fall asleep! Not that the explicit literature in the book didn't keep me awake, but I seemed to be prone to falling asleep when I slept in that position.

I dreamed a similar dream again, this time about a young maiden in distress. She seemed to be imprisoned in a huge castle, but she was only living by the hope of what could be. In this dream, the maiden was waiting to be awakened by someone who would kiss her on the cheek, and carry her away on a white horse.

Again I awakened from my dream and went to the window. I wondered what it all meant. My life in general. The dreams I had been having of late. The fact that I was changing. I am now 13 and even though my grades aren't as good as they used to be when mum used to help me with school work, I still miss receiving the compliments and the validation from everyone that life was and probably is still perfect.

I took my diary and decided to write. There was an entry that fate, destiny, or possibly God wanted me to write just so I remember it forever. And so I started to jot down my thoughts and feelings. It went something like this:

"Hi, Diary,

It seems as though just yesterday I was a little girl. But I'm like 13. I feel like in a short while I will be 20, and I'll be old enough to drive my own car and get my own job. Please never forget who you used to be.

Please never ever, because that little kid knows how the universe was put together. That kid knows what Einstein was thinking while eating his alphabet soup.

I know that your grades aren't wonderful because mommy says as of now you should study on your own. Please never forget that winning first prize is as good as managing to pass a tough class test just coz you put in the effort to do so.

And remember you are that girl that deep down there will never change. No matter how much I change. This diary entry is a prayer that she never forgets who she used to be.

Maybe I do things a little differently now, but I will always be that same person.

Love

Me"

So upon writing the rather precious diary entry, I folded the scented pink paper and put a glittery sticker on it, and sealed it like an envelope. In tiny block letters, I wrote: "dated: when I find this again."

I don't know when I will find this diary entry, but for all I know, I'm getting back to my book. The salted nuts are untouched, and the book is meant for older kids, but I was lucky enough to get my hands on it. I'm not sleeping early, my door is locked, and I can do whatever, it is I want. I'm going to read until it's the morning I really do think, because tomorrow is a Sunday, and I don't have much else to do.

November 25, 2022 18:02

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