Three Days

by Rie

I’m not sure why I’m naming this post ‘three days’. (I’m not even sure if you’ve noticed that I have.) But I like counting things in ones, threes, fives, sevens, tens, so it pleases me.

Anyway, I’ve spent these few days thinking. As ever. You should just take that as a given.

I wrote this three years ago:

I’m worried that the friends I actually like will forget all about me one day; when I’m thinking, I imagine meeting my favourite people ten years from now and leaving early because I have nothing to say.

My sister and I were reminiscing yesterday. She borrowed my Facebook account (because she only adds people she likes – ha) to see how everyone was doing. Everyone being the people who were once part of our lives.

(On a side note, I dislike Facebook. And it’s not because I dislike sharing – I mean, look at me! I have a blog. I’ve had a blog since I was twelve. I dislike what it represents and what it allows. I’ll save that for another rambling.)

Everyone’s changed. When you’re one person, I guess, you move and age and breathe while everyone remains stagnant, so it’ll always take you by surprise.

But you’ve remained stagnant, really. Everyone else was busy with their lives – they dated and broke up and cried and laughed and got married and had children and travelled – and you’re here. You’re stagnant. All you do is count the number of days to twenty-two, only to start counting the number of days to twenty-three. You don’t notice the people changing around you because you’re too distracted by how much you need to change.

I wrote this four years ago.

What I Want to Do When I Grow Up:

(Technically, I am grown up, but I’ve always wanted to use the phrase as a grown-up, so to speak.)
1. Be a veterinarian
2. Write and sell a book
3. Own a farm.
4. Be awesome.
5. Save the world.

Even back then I counted in fives. (Don’t take four and five seriously for that very reason. So much has changed since then, too.)

Some things really don’t change.