Childhood Revisited

It’s always the weird things that get me all emotionally riled up. Whether it’s seeing ice cream on the ground (not mine, of course) or just old grandparents trekking about; something about the loss of energy, weariness, and oblivious feel of tangible items that just makes me sad.

I was on a skytrain heading downtown this winter break and noticed a little stroller with the cutest little boy beside me. I’d say he was about 2-3 years old (but then again, I’m bad with guessing the age of babies) and he had the most tantalizing stare ever bestowed upon me. His father, casually dressed with his 5 o’clock shadow, sat while watching over him. Naturally, I made faces at him and entertained him with my signature peek-a-boo face. I couldn’t help but giggle to myself at what happiness he’s enjoying from this, and wondered how the simple eyes beneath my hands trick brought him such joy. Every time I covered my eyes, I’d peek through my fingers to see his innocent, questioning stare, and every time I opened my hands, I would witness his pure, addicting smile that can make even the hardest hearts melt.

I looked away for a minute at the window, and my heart sank. I looked back, him still staring. I teared up a little. I honestly didn’t know why. I think it was the sadness of knowing that someday he will grow up and lose that innocence, someday he will turn out to be something he never wanted to be, do something he wasn’t sure of, and someday that someday, he just might lead a hard life. I don’t know why. I think it’s from the fact that I over think and tend to look far deep into the future, pondering these thoughts of how things will lead on. I think it’s a curse. It makes me quite miserable at times because most of the time, the thoughts don’t end well, but realistically, all things end at some point.

I looked at the father. He seemed kind, at least from what I saw on the skytrain. At least he didn’t look like a single dad wandering about the streets of dangerous neighbourhoods unemployed and poverty-striken (but I wouldn’t know), at least he didn’t seem like one of those other fathers that I would constantly see on the skytrain being despicably annoyed by their own children (I’d only assume). Maybe they’re just out for a lovely stroll on a rainy afternoon, maybe they’re traversing the cities to see the child’s grandparents, maybe, possibly. I think I get sad when I think people are headed down a wrong path, I especially get sad when I know that person has so much more potential. One thing I despise seeing the most, is the lose of innocence. Maybe it’s a bit naive for me to think so purely of everyone, that I still hold belief and want to preserve the fact that everyone in the world is good, that I strongly advocate the good virtue of humanity. Perhaps I’m utterly mistaken. Whether it is to realize that occasionally, things just don’t work out the way it does or that innocence is not forever, or that I’m just extremely stubborn about the way life works.

Perhaps it has something to do with my dysfunctional childhood, how I don’t remember much except some great memories and some not so great. I just don’t want others to experience what I had to experience, but obviously I can’t do much about that.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I really wanted to share it so I’ll just end it here.

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