And she said, "It could never survive
With such differing lives
One home, one out on tour again
We may never come back
The strike of a match
The candle's burning at both ends."
Tonight, the 11 year old inside of me went wild. After 10 years of being a huge Blink- 182 fan (I started at the young age of 9, contrary to my parents' dismay) I finally saw them live. Mind you I was working the concert, but I still got to see them! Tom, Travis and my personal favorite Mark all stood less than a yard or so away from me. It was heavenly. Listening to the music again took me back to my junior high days of ripped up jeans and crazy hair.
It kind of makes me miss being young and enthusiastic. I wasn't really a reckless kid, but back then it seemed to be a lot easier to feel rebellious. I remember talking to boys on the phone, or sneaking sips of liquor, I felt like such a badass. Now I can legally drink, and I tend to avoid boys. Sometimes I forget that I'm 19, I still feel like I'm 13, and really, not much had changed since I was. Other than maturity and taste. I'm still the same girl really, only now with a lot more pressure. When I was 13 I thought I was weird because I had never kissed a boy, now I wish I could go back in time and smack myself for not only rushing, but for worrying in general. I mean really, those things are so trivial. I hated that I was in the 9th grade and still single, well guess what little girl, I'm in University and still single. I wish I knew back then that those things aren't as important as people make them seem. Heck, I wish I could still remember it all the time. Not saying I'm one of those girls who longs to have some guy to validate her, but I have to admit I spend way too much time looking at wedding dresses online.
Don't get me wrong, I don't think you could pay me to go back to my own middle years. They were certainly not what you find in movies. But if I was guaranteed a normal childhood, sure I'd go back and do it. It's not that I had some kind of tragic upbringing. Not at all. In fact I owe my parents a lot of not kicking my butt more than they did. I wasn't exactly a troubled kid, I didn't hang around the bad crowd, or shoplift. I was more isolated than anything. But I was an emotional pain in the butt for sure. I wasn't diagnosed Bipolar until I was in 8th grade. So until then I was a mess, and we had no real reason as to why. I think my family can all agree that getting that diagnosis was the best thing to ever happen. Not saying having Bipolar is the best thing ever. But knowing I have it and being able work with that and get help has turned my life around quite a bit.
If I could, I would give my left arm not to have been such a messed up kid, lived a typical life. But I can't. Who knows, maybe my "best years ever" will actually be my years in university.