Today I looked through a bunch of old photos of me, because I tried to find a cute one of me and my dad to post on his facebook for his birthday. And it felt like time travelling. I looked at pictures of fifteen year old me and i barely recognized myself. Pitch black hair. Band tees. Sweatpants. That's fifteen year old me in a fucking nutshell. She's so different, but still the same.
Thinking about time always trips me out (as you might have noticed), but trips me out in a good way. Growing up is so strange, because you don't notice it when it's happening. The steps are so small that they're almost impossible to see. But when you've walked miles and miles and miles and you look back, you see how far you've come.
I wish I could spend some time in the brain of fifteen year old me, because I really don't remember how it looks in there. I don't remember what thoughts I had, or really what opinions I had either. I guess that's what diaries are for. And I havea bunch of those. But the things I thought were important to write down then feel so insignificant to me now. They are not the things I wish I knew about my younger self. I want to know her thought process, what you thought about deep things.
I'll probably look back at my diaries in ten years and think the same. Because I'll always keep changing.
I'm so much stronger than I was then, and I am so proud of that. I've grown so damn much, it's crazy when you think about it. I wish I could help her. Wish I could tell her that her ways of dealing with pain wouldn't help her. But I also think she kinda knew that already.
This day is one of those days when I am hopeful and everything looks beautiful. I like these kinds of days. They are the ones I look back on and smile, and the ones I long for in the future. Summer nights are a blessing to us all.