So end of the year, end of an era. Beginning of an end in a way. The last year of high school is upon me and I don't quite know what to make of it yet. My feelings remain bittersweet on the subject. I am so longing to be gone, far away from this piece of suburbian pie of Alberta, to be my own person and do whatever it is I've been wanting to do. But, I don't exactly know what it is I want to do. And what I'm most hesitant of, most unwilling to except, is saying goodbye. Saying goodbye to this town, no matter how much I don't seem to fit. Saying goodbye to my family even though at times I want to say good riddence. Saying goodbye to friends, some I know it's better to part, and others I will miss forever. And saying goodbye to that special someone. Whether they are picking up and leaving you or you are walking away from them.I think that's the hardest goodbye to say of them all. Saying goodbye to someone you love, under any circumstances.
When did growing up get to be so hard? And why the heck do we want it so badly? We want to grow up and grow up, get through one school to go to another, move through another year so we can get closer to the coveted age of adulthood. We move ahead so fast we forget to look around, stop and enjoy the flowers if you will. Cause, and this might just be me, but once you hit 15 or 16, life seems to pick up at full speed. I miss the childhood days. When making mistakes were apart of learning and coloring books were okay! (Yes, I still have a colorbook that I still use, wanna fight about it?)
When I think about growing up, I think about this poem in the book 'Perks of Being a Wallflower' by Stephen Chbosky. It goes a little something like this.Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.
Okay I know this sound really morbid, but does it remind you, even slightly of what growing up is? Getting rid of the childhood, whether you want to or not? Have people remove their kid gloves around you, and start treating you like an adult. But adulthood, doesn't have to be as we think it has to be. Try to incorrirate your inner kid once in awhile. All hope won't seem lost.
~Kat ZappE
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