A rough translation is: “I hate myself, 19 years old.” I can’t remember the last time I heard the Suga Shikao song “19sai” before it came up on shuffle recently. I remember identifying with the lyrics at 19, but the funny thing is, I was happiest then. In the latter half of 19, that is, and the first half of 20.
Despite having been diagnosed with SAD (seasonal affective disorder) not long before, I remember being content, self-satisfied, and more secure than ever before. I was rarely, if ever, irritable or snappish. I’m not a particularly judgmental person in general, but I was never so…generous as I was then. I could see the good in every situation. When I passed someone on the street, it was the person’s good qualities that leaped out at me (even if it were as simple as “wow, she has nice eyebrows.”). I love the world. I loved everyone. I loved myself. I loved the feeling of the rain.
I was happy with myself and it radiated into the way I treated and even just thought about everyone else. I didn’t take anything personally. I was thick-skinned.
You’d think that time would continue in that vein, help me expand on the person I was then, but instead I feel like I’ve regressed in some ways. I’m temperamental, insecure, jealous, and possessive. I’m older, but I don’t feel wiser. I feel jaded and bitterly disappointed by the world.
I’m too young for that.
I want to recapture who I was at nineteen, but be a more mature version of that girl. I want to be able to enjoy the rain again.
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