I Remember When

I remember when life was simpler. When I was younger, the biggest problem of the day was figuring out what game I was going to play, or how long I would have to wait before I could hangout with my friends again. School work took me less than an hour on any given day and required very little effort from me to do well. I never had doubts about anything: I could accomplish anything I set my mind to, God was easy to understand, and people I knew would always be around no matter what.

I remember when I began to be introduced to the gross and complicated aspects of life. My list of worries seemed endless, filled with major decisions that felt as if they would determine the rest of my life. I was no longer the exemplary and top student of the class, which brought up plenty of doubts about my own abilities. The uncertainty of life became a harsh reality: there are certain parts of life that I will never be able to be involved in, Christianity is nothing like what I learned growing up, and death can be hiding around any corner to steal away the time I have with any loved one.

Simply put, I remember when life wasn’t like what it’s like now.

There are plenty of times now where I wish I could go back to those innocent days where life was simple, carefree, and a land of possibilities. I miss the self-confidence that used to exist, and the positive certainty I had about everything. I’m tired of knowing what loss feels like and constantly fearing any more loss.

I know that the typical trend for this type of reflection is to wrap it all up with a “however…” that neatly describes how my newfound knowledge of the world has been worth the struggle and pain that comes with it — that I am happy to not be ignorant anymore like I was as a child. But I cannot honestly say that with complete satisfaction or certainty.

As much as I would love to confidently say that my enlightened state that I am in now is worth everything that comes with it, I just can’t shake the memory of simpler, happier times. I remember so much of what was, and it is that memory of what was that causes me to fear what new memories I will make now.

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