I love my sister is the mantra I've been chanting as she's dragged me around malls in search of her 'hawaii stuff', getting her ready to go.
Has it been that long? Three years already? I suppose the memories aren't that clear anymore, and the photos don't invoke quite that strong an emotional wrench, but I still miss the place and the people, and I'd want to do those two and a half weeks all over again.
Talking about memories, I've passed Hsiang my most precious photo scrap book to put on file, full of poor cutouts and mutilated pictures, but mostly of happy, smiling, and above all young faces.
I was shocked to see how much we've aged in the last five years. There's a hardness in the lines of our faces that didn't show in year 9, a certain set to the mouth that testifies to the emotionally stressful time that is adolescenthood, a general weariness as if saying, what more does life want from me?
I think we've left our childhood firmly behind, and the future looks heavy.
No comments:
Post a Comment