Everyday after school, I go through the side door into the garage and walk up the steps leading into the house. It’s the same thing on most days, same path, and same surroundings but every now and then I’m overcome with a feeling when I go inside. For a brief moment, there’s a certain smell that brings back memories. It’s only for a second that memories of me being a child come rushing back.
So many times throughout my life I’ve heard that some people hate change and others thrive on it. I think I figured out early on that I was the type who despises it. There’s the change that storms into your life bringing with it chaos or there’s the kind that creeps up on you and in one moment you’re blown away. For me, I have never been able to embrace change; it was something I over analyzed along with everything else in my life.
I have seen people close to me with so much going for them and I found that at some point in time all that changed. I couldn’t predict it and I despised this inability. There were times I knew life would be different. When I moved from a different country, I knew that people around me would soon grow up live their own lives. I knew that I wouldn’t stay in the same grade forever. Knowing it though didn’t instill me with the knowledge of how life would be after those changes. I felt the need to predict the future but that was impossible.
It is only in these past few months as I plan for college, that I have found how much I believe change is needed. Soon it won’t be the world, but me who will be making the changes in life. I realize it’s hard to appreciate something until it isn’t there anymore. More than that, I realize that when things change, they can always change again. If everything in my life was constant, then I would never be able to know anything different than what I know now. I wouldn’t be able to have hope that the worst things will change instead of staying the same way forever.
I still have an undeniable dislike for change. Each time the future comes up, each time the seasons change, I feel that hate rise up again. Every time I open that side door and briefly walk into my memories from the past, there is still a sense of nostalgia. It’s hard not to want to stay in the past, and to not move on. Now, however, I can value what change brings. I can close the door and let those memories rest without much sorrow. The laughter, the people are all still there, only in a different way. It is a change that I believe is needed and that change is something I can accept.
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