I Remember My Life As...

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I Remember My Life As...

           I remember the hot sun on my back in June. I was sipping on sweet tea and laying out with my friends listening to music. It was the first time all summer I had seen them; we were all talking about how perfect everything had seemed at the moment.

           

            I remember eating shrimp at a restaurant; I remember throwing up for days after and vowing to never eat the dang things again.

 

            I remember February and how happy I was to finally have a Valentine other than my mom. I’ve always hated the smell and look of red roses, they are ordinary. I wanted something like an orchid that was extraordinarily beautiful, but on that day, I pretended to love them.

 

            I remember the greasy pizza that tasted slightly of cardboard served by the lunch room every Friday.

 

            I remember my Grandpa’s funeral and how I didn’t understand death. I thought I was watching him sleep in a fancy bed. It wasn’t until weeks later I finally gave up on the thought me going to visit him with Mom like we did everyday.

 

            I remember my first boyfriend and how sad his brown eyes looked when I broke up with him after a month.

 

            I remember giving speeches in front of large crowds about the perks of pole vaulting. The butterflies I got in my stomach after stuttering were similar to the ones I got before a track meet.

           

            I remember trying to be a vegetarian at least a dozen times. I always failed at it when a steak that had been marinated for hours and cooked medium well came my way.

 

            I remember telling someone to never talk to me again.

 

            I remember playing in mud puddles after a summer afternoon rain. The dirt always smelled a certain way, what I really liked about it, though, was time spent with Jordan and Tyler.

 

            I remember going on triple dates to the local steak house and then taking a trip to the bowling alley with friends. I remember getting extremely mad when someone beat me; I guess you could say I’m a little competitive.

 

            I remember the hatred I felt for someone who I had once loved and wondering how my entire life had changed in just four short months. The friends I once had, had evanescented from my life. I felt truly alone for the first time.

 

            I remember waking up at 5:10 every morning and going to the Fitness Center to lift weights; I loved the burn I felt in my muscles and the slight panic I got when I lifted something a tad bit too heavy.

 

            I remember fleece pajamas and hot chocolate Christmas Eve. Watching my favorite television shows on the couch with my mom and dog was the best part of the season.

 

            I remember spending the night with Samantha; we would ride the four-wheeler for hours and when it got dark we would go inside and play. Her mom would always have super on the table at exactly 7:45 P.M. After we ate our main course we would eat banana pudding.

 

            I remember my mirror falling out of my locker in the sixth grade. People said I was so ugly it leaped when I looked into it for months after that. The person who owned the locker underneath mine was mad for days because the glass had got everywhere.

 

            I remember questioning if I was somehow adopted because I acted nothing like my family and looked nothing like my so-called baby pictures.

 

            I remember fighting over a stuffed animal with Jordan; it was a red teddy bear with sparkles woven into its fur.

           

            I remember the smell of fresh cut grass and how it always made me hungry. Most smells, though, make me hungry unless they smell down right awful.

 

            I remember my middle school years, I was so akward and ugly. There isn’t a day that goes by that I wish I could go back and fix my clothes and hair the way they were supposed to look.

 

            I remember eating salad and wondering if the lettuce came from a tree. Did it sprout from the ground like a vine? Maybe lettuce is like a carrot and grew under the ground. To this day I don’t know the answer to that question; I would prefer to stay one of life’s little mysteries.

 

            I remember seeing my aunt after her and my uncle divorced. She began to sob as soon as I hugged her. I cried too, but didn’t let it show.

 

            I remember not wanting people to see me in the hospital because I looked ugly and hadn’t brushed my hair in over a week.

 

            I remember the white walls of the classroom as I stared at them during one of my tests hoping they would somehow magically give me answers the questions I didn’t know.

 

            I remember laughing so much I cried with my friends on Saturday nights.

            I remember hearing “I cheated on you,” and “I just don’t love you anymore. At least not the way I used too,” from my first love. I remember the agony from just two sentences. There was a massive hole in my heart that wanted to consumed me. Memories of him burned the most, at night, when I touched the pillow.

           

I remember my first day of sophomore year and the slow red color that came on my face from dropping my tray of food all over my clothes in the front of the Pelham High School Cafeteria.

 

            I remember writing football player’s numbers on my face for school spirit in middle school and how I was made fun of for weeks for writing the numbers backwards.

 

             I remember getting braces in high school; my mouth ached for weeks. I considered ripping them off of my teeth.

           

            I remember my first cheer tryouts in the sixth grade; I do not know how I made it because I sucked.

 

            I remember playing bassoon but not liking how heavy it was. I switched to flute, but later  switched to piccolo because I’m the only one in the band who could and still does play it.

           

            I remember the fear I had after finding out that my seventh grade boyfriend went to Juvenile Detention; needless to say we didn’t last long after that.

 

            I remember how people calling others fat makes me cringe to the core.

 

            I remember spending all my high school spring breaks at pole vaulting practice instead of at the beach like everyone else does.

 

            I remember watching Bad Grandpa on a date at the movie theatre and how much I wanted to just leave because of the immature comedy.

 

            I remember the day my own father didn’t recognize me. He called my name and then said “Never mind, I thought you were someone else.” That was the day I promised myself I would never talk to him again.

 

            I remember sitting in the cold watching my old boyfriends Syrupmaker soccer games. He and the games were a complete waste of time.

 

            I remember taking a really good vault; my stomach always felt like it had gotten left on the runway while my heart plummeted to the pit.

 

            I remember my moms face at my grandpas funeral. She was trying to be strong, but as soon as I hugged her she bursts into tears.

 

I remember late Friday nights in my cheer uniform, early mornings in my cross country uniform, and even earlier Sunday mornings as pole vaulting practice.

 

            I remember that pain you feel in your arms while lifting weights; its not a bad pain, it’s a kind of pain that makes you feel strong enough to do anything you had ever wanted to do.

 

            I remember the scar on the back of my calf. I tried to ride a motorcycle, and was badly burned by muffler.

           

I remember being bigger and smarter than all my boy cousins. It was easy for me to get them to do what I wanted. I also remember that after puberty hit them, I was the smallest. They tried to get me back for all the times I beat them up, but I was still the smartest, though, and ruined there plots against me.

 

I remember telling someone “I miss you” on the phone and the pain in my chest as I heard nothing but a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

 

            I remember prom; it was a lovely evening until someone stepped on my toenail. It fell off and blood got all over dance floor and my beautiful dress.

 

            I remember how the color of burnt orange makes me feel nauseas.

 

            I remember the feeling as though I was dying in a cross-country meet.

 

            I remember my pageant days. I won a title that came with a crown which fit snug around my head and an ivory sash with brown cursive writing that read my MISS HOSPITALITY.

 

            I remember how I love the sound a person makes when they take a large gulp of water.

 

            I remember my first grade teacher, Mrs. Frostegg. I was the first to complete the “Reading Raceway.”

           

I remember my dog being given the name “Banana Head” by my baby cousin who refused to let me change the name.

 

            I remember throwing up all through the night and day when I had a virus. I felt as if my stomach was just tossing the life out of me and into the toilet.

 

            I remember receiving phone calls from my drunken friends. I  knew they loved because they told me repeatedly.

 

            I remember when my best friend told me he was bisexual. It wasn’t as big of a deal to me as it was to everyone else. He was the same person.

           

            I remember the climb all the way to the top of the tree in my backyard. I remember the panic in my heart as the limb I was using for support broke; I slid all the way down the tree. 

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