Losing Track of Time: Growing Up Too Soon

When I was ten, my parents bought me a notebook. “Tina,” they said, “you talk so much about so many things. Why don’t you write your thoughts down?” So I did.
I was an only child with an active imagination, so I wrote every day.

I wrote about all the things that I wanted to say to my parents. I described all the places that we would go as a family if my parents weren’t always working all the time. In just a few weeks, I had managed to fill an entire notebook, so my parents bought me another one.

“Want to see what I wrote?” I asked.

“Later,” they said. “Eat your dinner. Do your homework.” Then my dad’s eyes went back to the screen as he checked work emails, and analyzed numbers to see what he could trade. Mom typed on her laptop. Next to her, her planner was open, full of appointments and bright post-it notes. They were both very busy. They were like this every day of the week.

Another week passed. Then another month, and another year. My parents bought me my own computer but I still preferred the connection of my thoughts pulsing through my fingers to my pen, and transforming into words on the page.

Over time, my notebooks filled several boxes in my closet. They contained dreams I wanted to fulfill, sketches of places I wanted to go, lines of poetry, random thoughts that made me draw happy faces across the page, or angry words like silent screams across several paragraphs.

One day, I went to collect all the boxes of notebooks from my closet. “I can’t believe you’re moving out already,” Mom said. “How long did you study for your degree? Is your boyfriend helping you on moving day?”

“We broke up. We’re just friends now. I told you that last year.”

“That’s a lot of notebooks,” said Dad.

“Yeah,” I said. “You once told me to write down all my thoughts, so I did. I just wish I could have shared some of them with you, but you both were always so busy with work.”

“We gave you a good life, didn’t we?” asked Mom.

“I guess,” I said. “You did help with the downpayment of my condo.”

I made sure all the boxes were closed. I was going to keep them sealed for a long time. Years of thoughts were in there, collecting dust and silence throughout time.

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