I hate change. I’ve always hated change. I used to cry every time Mary Poppins left at the end of the movie because that wasn’t fair, she didn’t get to just leave.
I think a lot of my life has felt unfair.
My life’s moments shouldn’t get to just leave me. It always feels like they’re running away from me, they’re at the tips of my fingers and I can’t quite reach them. I want to enjoy it all but I’m always looking back, thinking about how little I appreciated it when I lived it. I want to live them again.
The sweet tacky sensation of sun soaked skin, the lazy days with my friends, soft hugs, listening to their shallow breathing, the warmth of their cheek on my chest. Feel her hug again, wrapped around me while we slept. Have another cigarette at 5 am with him. Scream out our anthem on our wine soaked sofa. Giggle my way through ‘the notebook’ on that cloudy day. My lost teen days.
Take me back even further. I want to hold her soft hand again. Want to hear the way she says ‘milk’ with its cliquey K. I want to hold my sister with all my little body. Want to look down at my 6 year-old hands again. Clamber up on the staircase on all fours. Bounce up and down on the bed. Roam my imagination for entertainment. That smell that felt like home, in their big and soft double bed. Soft words that make everything ok. Something intangible that lets me swallow my hurt.
I never wanted to grow up. I still don’t. I miss the sweet naivety. I miss the feeling on endlessly long days, the comfort of my small world. The obliviousness to the chaos. I can’t accept that it’s gone.
So like a spoilt child throwing her tantrum, I scream at the sky and throw myself down against the ground, but despite my pleas the sun continues to encircle me. When I’ve dried my tears, I’m secretly glad to see the sunrise each morning because it means I get one more day to make it count, and if today doesn’t count, then I’ll have tomorrow to try again. And one day, one day they’ll all be counted.
By Elise Batchelor (Gender Agenda Cambridge)
Graphics by Tess Haddad Meerson