The Lovely Pain of Growing Older 

The sound of a young and ignorant heartbeat. The feeling of glistening tears on the subdued face. Unfamiliarity creeps into the mind and settles down. Attachment so forcefully broken away does not die easily. Who are these people? They are all the same, miniscule size, but they seem so much larger. What is this place? Like a fairy tale, giants appear, speaking in jovial yet worried tones. Fear takes over and develops a seemingly impenetrable barrier. Time passes while a figure sits static in the corner, the hands of a clock ticking rhythmically. The day is gone. 

A thrust into a new place occurs, erasing past feelings. A new feeling suddenly makes itself known. Is it confidence? New obstacles quickly stunt the thought. Masses of people, bigger this time, engulf the land. I feel small, as though the older students have a superiority over me. A self-awareness never before felt makes itself known. It feels like everyone is focused on me. Why am I just standing there? I don’t have any friends. Watching, waiting, wondering, the sound of a bell pierces the air. Time to go. What’s your name? A timid response. Time becomes a blur, losing its importance in the new sea of confusion. Maybe next time. Don’t surrender hope yet. A boy, likely possessing the same fears as myself, makes himself known. A friend, who will come to cement unforgettable memories and experiences with me, accepting the unaccepted boy I see in the mirror. Like the clouds parting after a rainy day, warmth begins to envelop the population of immature thoughts residing in my mind. It’s not so bad, really. Let’s play tag. Tomorrow we can play some kickball. The need for a feeling of inclusion dominates any other problems here. Unbeknownst to my naive consciousness, others frolic in this same field of worries. I will not understand this truth for years to come. The thought of another repetitious day and another fear makes the days become hazy, replaced only by dread. A scary bedtime story, existing only in the imagination but becoming all too real when the body drifts into sleep. Soon the bell will ring again, and a homely comfort will envelop me once more. A warm evening spent with a friend, filled with laughter and innocence, makes everything all right. All good things must come to an end. An eternity passes in seconds. A solemn farewell takes place, and a long forgotten prospect looms. A new home, a new social environment, and new bouts of distress appear again. It is foolish of me to run from change. My legs are like jelly, never being able to quite outrun the enemy.

The sound of footsteps, filled with echoes of growth yet immaturity can be heard. I remember this feeling so vividly, but am entirely unprepared for this new environment. Where did you get that backpack from? Was Stacy in algebra today? The sound of scattered questions and chatter are louder than ever before. Now that I think about it, how is my hair? Are my clothes stylish enough? Does it even matter?  A confident attempt to make some friends hides in the far reaches of my mind, but I am a poor seeker in this game of Hide-and-Seek. I yearn to talk and play, but possess no desire to perform the interactions required to achieve this. The familiar ring of a bell reverberates throughout the building. Back to it. Nice to meet you. Want to hang out at my house this weekend? Inevitably, I meet others who share in my interests and instill feelings of carefreeness within my heart amongst the daily struggles. A feeling of development offers itself to me, but is still held underwater by reluctant, childlike hands. Another meal, another class, another day filled with a wish to fit in. Like a puzzle piece dropped beneath the table, unable to connect until it is found. A shorter eternity this time, the feeling of growing older inspires me. As the imagined inferiority begins to die, so do old habits. Still shy, I persevere and look ahead. Not again. The prospect of a new school frightens me. I have experienced it before. A strength exists within me, but a lack of wisdom, and therefore courage, chain thoughts of others’ opinions and judgements to my subconscious. Farewell. What the future holds cannot be known. I march onwards like a toy soldier.

Despite only one summer having passed, I feel older. A new environment, the looming thought of which once trapped me, is met with less apprehension. As I walk onto the high-school battlegrounds, an oh-so-familiar feeling comes over me. I reluctantly embrace the fact that this will be the most difficult period of my childhood, as well as the last. I wish to make it the most enjoyable one yet. Like a tidal wave, kids of all ages and personalities surround me . Maintaining the usual anxiety, I encounter a few whom I feel a spark with. A fire lights the flammable fireworks of hope. Like a Lego set constituted of many pieces, I am slowly being built into a sturdier and more complete structure. Many of my old fears cannot find sustenance and starve. A new aura. Suddenly aware of the irrelevant worries and proud when I look at myself, a long-dormant confidence takes off its cloak of invisibility. Conviction in my success. An eternity slows down. Fear of the future still lurks. A flurry of memories, melancholy days, joyful games of tag, rush at me. I know that it will not be painless. But I have made it through the game before. And I have come out better and stronger. I am ready for when life rattles his hand, and throws the dice on the board once more.