How things change

I’ve been gone for three weeks. And ya know, everything’s changed.

And not in the way that my skin has been seriously kissed by the sun, or the way the mold has creeped onto my bedroom ceiling.

But things have changed in the way where bonds are broken and you finally sit up and realize you’ve been sleep walking. And it’s not half bad and only half as painful as I thought it’d be. And if I had to guess, I’d say this is what growing up and letting go really feels like.

I’m still young and I still haven’t figured everything out. But I have up to this point straight and all the twists made sense of. I can close this chapter and step out into the next one.

It’s like those moments when you realize everything every mother, father, aunt or uncle, older sibling, grandparent, and well-meaning adult said was true. It’s that moment in the car or the kitchen or the fast-food restaurant, where your mother listened to your heartache speak or your dad bought you ice cream to drown your sorrows, and all they had to say was some pitiful piece of advice about time and moving on. And they’re right.

Some things you’re better off without and some things are meant to be only memories and dust and a souvenir in the bottom of your sock drawer. And right now it might be painful, but I promise, someday it will be smiles.

Because you never truly forget, as in “forgive and forget”. But breathing gets easier and pain gets lighter just like bruises heal. You won’t forget the painful things, but they’ll never be quite as sharp as they are now, and they’ll no longer cloud the happy things. But maybe they’ll fade so much you will forget, and all you’ll remember is smiles.

And that’s how everything changes.