And I found that I didn’t want it.
How odd.
For over three years, it was all I could think about. The only person whose opinion really mattered to me, at least on that particular topic. And yet, when he finally told me what I had wanted to hear so badly, I found I couldn’t believe him.
I suppose I had heard the same thing before, from a few other people. Not in the same way, because I doubt it could ever be said in exactly the same way by several different people. The way he said it was.. straight to the point I guess. Quite unexpected. Formal almost. It wasn’t like I was saying things that were asking for it; he just said it, not quite out of the blue because we were sort of on that sort of topic, but still when I read it all I could think of was “Well I didn’t see that one coming.” And straight after that “I don’t believe him.” I knew he wasn’t joking. I could see that what he was saying was what he really thought. But it just didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t. I have spent my entire life thinking the opposite, and then someone just comes along and tells me what, sure, I want to hear, but it had always been a dream, so far out of reach that it was pointless to even contemplate it ever happening.
It’s not like his opinion doesn’t count. I would say that it actually counts for more than most does to me. But like I said, I didn’t see it coming because I knew that it would never happen in my wildest dreams. How wrong I was.
But more importantly, what he said was followed by a conversation. An important conversation, to me anyway, and no doubt him as well. And he offered me a dream. A dream that I thought was even more unlikely to happen that my first wish. He didn’t describe anything, guys don’t tend to do that kind of thing, but in my head I painted a vivid picture of what he was offering. Every little detail I paid attention to. The same picture I had painted in my head for years until I finally began to lose hope and the colours of the paint began to fade. And then, last night, it was like he suddenly revived that picture and put all of the colour and sparkle back into it.
But a restored painting is never the same as the fresh new original. And this time my heart wasn’t mixed up in amongst all of the colours. So I viewed this picture differently to when I first created it. And I realised that I didn’t want it. Not now. Maybe in a few years, to which he did promise me, then yes, that painting would be good. But now? I can’t. I really can’t. I’m going into my final year of school; I can’t have that sort of commitment, that sort of complication, if I want to do well in that important year of 2010. It’s funny how before, I could see it happen. I could justify any of the obstacles that were sitting in the way of what I wanted. But now, when it is here and when it is real, somehow those obstacles just got that little bit bigger. And just that little bit harder to justify.
I’m glad I guess. Because that last area of my personality was always the only one lagging behind the others in terms of maturity. It was always the only part where the stupid childish instincts would kick in, because I didn’t have any experience to help it mature along with the rest of me. But now, maybe I think it might be finally catching up. And I’ve learnt that the first lesson to maturity in that area is to realise that they aren’t just things to giggle over and whisper about to your best friend. Although I have always been of the opinion that, in reality, they are just the same as what I am, so why should I treat them any different? Some people don’t even have that.
So I’m glad that I'm entering my final senior year with those thoughts in my head. And I feel sorry for those who are just beginning on the journey.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever,
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.
Winnie the Pooh, Now We Are Six
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