Growing up, I was an extrovert to the max.
I loved going outside and wandering for hours. It was horrible moving to a city that had literally no sidewalks, and no real concept of pedestrian kindness. How on earth could you build an entire city that looks as lovely as the one I live in and not consider sidewalks, trollies, and buses; is beyond me. Still, my love for the outdoors and book prevailed.
Essentially when we first moved to this town, we had to stay some ways down the street from the mall. Which, for me, didn’t mean much because my mother wasn’t blowing green leaves. So! Instead of wandering said mall looking for clothes and things to buy, we would grab as many mangas and romance novels as we could and pile them on a table. After buying three drinks from the café, we’d get to work.
Those days were fun because hanging out in the bookstore and reading was an entire mood. It defined my youth and early teen years.
Title: “My Youth.” Thanks Pexels.
But just like childhood memories do, borders eventually faded away.
Goodbye to bouncy skin, the weight that stayed off with just two jogs and a single push up. Goodbye ‘no worries’ and that ‘no bill life’.
Later on, I went from walking all day to simply reading at home. Every day I would pile books on the end of my bed and read. This does not in any way, shape, or form mean I was a good student.
But I did read a lot and suddenly going outside became some epic adventure into the unknown.
From reading too much to writing my own stories. I realized that I was growing more and more at peace with being alone. Being alone had been a fear and sometimes that “loneliness” does peek its head up, but it’s rare and far between.
I truly enjoy my own company and I feel like that it’s a blessing in some ways because being alone and being lonely are two very different things. But! Half of this goes out the window because my family doesn’t know how to knock.