Today I was tagged in a photo on Facebook. Naturally curious, I clicked it to be greeted with a group photo of my Kindergarden class. A happy, innocent version of myself greeted me with a smile. It was nice to be refreshed with a memory of a happier time.
I read the comments, and noticed my classmates from that period. I looked around and found more photos of that KG-6th grade range. I started seeing familiar faces, and the memories became tangible in my mind.
At first I was excited to see what they looked like, but I was horribly shocked. The more current images of my past friends and enemies were barely recognizable. Mature faces of young adults stared back.
They changed so much. The past class clowns now hardened with athletes' bodies and faces toned with maturity. They looked like The Model Youth Army, complete carbon soldiers of stubbornness and revolution.
Even the dorks and nerds. Completely unrecognizable. So different...so grown up. It was a vague feeling of discomfort I couldn't explain.
Even the first girl I fell in love with, Shadee, looked so different in the picture of her smiling.
I guess the most unenlightening thing of all was how I saw myself. Confronted with the reality of the passage of time, I glance over images of growth and the loss of childhood while a portrait of disappointment overbears on me.
This is one of those moments I really feel like a Holden Caulfield.
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Pacific State
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