10 September 2008

unpacking means old journal entries

April 8, 2003

And so one day I woke up and I was twenty years old, about to move out of the dorms and into my first apartment amidst boxes of schoolbooks and scrapbooks and journals now nearly a decade old or more. And one day I woke up in the arms of a boy and it was true blue love and thought "How did I get here? When did I get here?" because the waiting is supposed to be over and it seems as though it has just begun.
One day I woke up and I had credit card debt and birth control and essays about french existentialists. And my mom needed me.
One day I woke up and was drinking wine and coffee because I liked it and not because I was trying to look older. I was reading CNN and waiting to hear if my old friend was still alive in Kuwait. I was planning trips to London.
And one day I woke up and I was twenty and I asked myself "Is this where you wanted to be? Is this you? and I disregarded the increasing pounds and the diminishing funds and said
"I am where I always wanted to be."
And all of a sudden twenty seemed so young.

ed note:
twenty is so young. to be a baby again...


Unknown said...

Twenty is indeed still young. Yet so much has been learned at this age. Welcome to 20. Hope you enjoy the ride.

Bebe said...

thanks darling for your comment. in fact i wrote this 5 years ago, i found it in a diary while i was unpacking.

i thought it was interesting in retrospect.

Hila said...

I know how you feel Lucie, I can't believe the amount of things I've done in the space between 20 and hitting 25. This is a beautiful post.

Bebe said...

merci, mlle hila :)